Triviality
by ShatteredPerceptions
Summary: Bonded by accident. Betrayed by those closest to him. Soundwave is forced to take up a title he never thought possible, with friends and foes in both factions. OP/SW. Graphic sticky. G1/AU.
1. Chapter 1

Chapter one

This beginning chapter has needed a serious editing ever since it was put online. This fanfic was only ever supposed to be a one-shot, and since it's evolved into such a huge, multichaptered story, we've had to tweak things here and there. As of 1/2/12, this chapter has received some serious work.

As always, please don't plagiarize my work. My writing style is distinct. I have many fans. They will recognize it instantly and it'll get reported to me promptly.

I will RARELY put warnings on chapters. Keep in mind several things before delving into the story; there's sticky sex, there's nonconsensual sex (rape), there is dubious consent, there is violence, swearing, killing, maiming, explicit torture, zombie(ish) transformers. Characterizations aren't canon! This series is a mix of an AU, G1, Movieverse, SG, and whatever else we felt like throwing in. There will also be "m-preg" later on. However, I don't consider this as such. In our series, femmes and mechs have the same anatomical equipment. There really is no difference, except that femmes can reproduce sparklings faster because they have more specialized sparks than mechs.

That being said, enjoy the newly edited version!

* * *

Only a few dim lights in the upper portion of Optimus Prime's desk were on, casting shadowy flickers throughout the room.

Otherwise, it was dark and quiet.

Optimus himself was recharging a short way away. He was sprawled out on his stomach plating across his berth, limbs askew. He didn't move, only loudly snored, hardly minding the thermal blanket twisted around his thick legs. The mech turned onto his back and tossed his arms above his helm, optics barely flicking on as he brushed his own antenna.

Above the Ark, stars glistened in the Earth's sky and next to the giant ship an even larger volcano loomed innocently. There were a myriad of both naturally and artificially created passages within the volcano, some big enough for a Cybertronian to fit through.

When the tunnels came to an end, they met with a secret door in the side of the Ark – once a docking port to transport goods – another was a smaller access shaft for maintenance in a shower rack– which now was access for Soundwave to enter inside.

The door was set in Optimus Prime's personal room, inconspicuously hidden in the corner next to a shelf.

Soundwave did not hesitate punching in the code to gain entrance. The telepath stepped through the opening, clearing it in time before the thick door soundlessly slid shut again. Soundwave was quick and silent in his movements, padding out of the corner and into Prime's main recharging chamber with a sense of alarming familiarity.

At the sight of his target sprawled out on the berth, Soundwave suddenly stopped. His deep red visor flared ever so slightly at the sight of the Prime's unmasked faceplates and those long, relaxed limbs. Then stealthily, he neared the berth and kneeled by Prime's side, the plating of his knees barely making a sound against the floor.

The Decepticon reached over and slightly brushed his hand over Optimus' helm, trailing the tips of his fingers down to the exposed mouth.

"Ah, Soundwave," Optimus muttered tiredly through his fingers.

Soundwave remained silent at the admonishment but withdrew his arm, allowing it to fall back on his side.

Optimus' blue optics onlined with a flicker, a slight smirk on his face.

"Come back for a fucking?" Prime asked.

Soundwave's visor flashed, but he decided against answering. Prime's large hand stretched out and he touched Soundwave's face before he reared back and smacked the dermal metal harshly.

"Answer me, slut."

"Yes," Soundwave answered evenly, refusing to give in to the bait.

A chortle of amusement left Optimus. "What happened this time? What do you want?"

His index finger and thumb pinched at the bottom half of the Soundwave's mask, a darker glint developing in Prime's optics. Then he caressed the telepath's neck cords, feeling the pulse of mechblood underneath them.

Soundwave obligingly tilted his helm to one side, stretching the cables of his neck to allow Prime more access to the meshed tubing. "Request: for more—"

And here he paused, though only minutely, while his processor attempted to pick out a suitable word for what he wanted. Soundwave's visor dimmed to a near black and his synthesised, monotone voice rolled out with a single answer.

"—contact."

Optimus gazed down at the mech before him, stilling his hand on Soundwave's throat.

"I see," Optimus finally murmured in reply.

He sat up and shifted his body, placing his pedes on the floor. The mech stood, towering over Soundwave, and he leered down at him for a brief moment before padding off. Moving some things around, the Autobot leader fixed himself a cube of high grade, metal tinkling around together in the silence of the room.

Then he padded back over, squatting next to Soundwave.

"I bet you're hungry, aren't you?" Optimus asked.

"I've received my daily ration," Soundwave answered primly, opting not to mention that he gave most of it to his symbiotes anyway.

And as if on cue, a screen flashed before his HUD, reminding him of his low energy reserves. Soundwave's fingers twitched once before he managed to disable the warning. He did not want to beg, he would not lower himself to such a position.

"That's good," Optimus replied, "because I don't give free energon to filthy little sluts."

Optimus drank from his cube, his blue optics glimmering with lust.

"Take that mask off and visor off," Prime demanded, and strode over to one of the chairs in his room to lazily sit. He spread his legs, swirling a finger around in his drink. "And get to work."

Soundwave's hands clenched into fists by his sides and his empty tanks churned with hunger, prompting more pop up messages. Soundwave manually sent a command to silence the warnings for good and reached over his shoulder, unclasping his weapon and sit on the floor next to the berth.

Most Decepticons wouldn't dream of unarming themselves even during an interfacing session but Soundwave knew that his mind had always been his true weapon. He then twisted his torso around, hoisting himself on his hands and knees.

Soundwave began to crawl. The face mask split into two, sliding into the sides of his helm and he ran his glossa over his full, wide lips, feeling the exposed dermal plating tingle in the open air. He deliberately let his hips sway in clear invitation and despite his upper bulk, Soundwave's movements were as graceful and fluid as a cybercat's.

"I will please you," Soundwave breathed, now using his real voice instead of the secondary vocaliser.

When he reached the seated Autobot, he rubbed one side of his cheek against the strong, blue thighs and then dragged his lip components down the inner seam, smearing the smooth metal with the protective oils from his mouth.

Optimus smiled like some lazy god, parting his legs so Soundwave could have more room.

Then the expression on Optimus' face twisted, and he sunk the tips of his fingers in on that helm, harshly gripping to it. Using his impressive strength, he lifted the telepath up, then moved a hand down to clasp at Soundwave's throat. "When I give you a fucking order, I expect you to obey."

A short burst of static escaped the Decepticon's vocaliser and he tried to pry the cruel fingers away from him. His neck cords pulsed erratically in an attempt to force more energy through the constricted passageways and he bent one knee, balancing his weight as best as he could without putting too much strain on his vital lines.

"Yes…Optimus Prime… sir," Soundwave managed and retracted his visor. Slanted, orange optics glared up at the Autobot. One optic was lighter than the other and their colour represented Soundwave of the lowest Cybertronian caste – the Empties from Polyhex.

"Good!" Prime exclaimed and he let go. "I want to watch those pretty orange optics of yours as you suck me off," he gurgled and shifted his long and broad legs open. "I'm gonna fuck you for being such a naughty bitch."

A pleasurable shiver wracked itself through Soundwave's body at the memory of their last meeting where his valve had continued to ache oh so nicely for orns afterwards. "I will please you," he reasserted.

Soundwave pushed his face into the armour of Optimus' codpiece, kissing almost reverently across the closed panel. Then he turned his helm to the side and concentrated on Optimus' hand, which was still resting on his thigh. Soundwave nudged at the fingers with his nasal ridge like a cyber-pup seeking its master's attention, lapping at the tips before daringly taking one into his moist mouth, to Optimus' apparent delight. Soundwave suckled on the metal briefly and then pulled away, only to take a second digit in alongside with the first.

Soundwave stared directly into Optimus' face, his own optics already bright with need.

Optimus's face was impassive as he gazed back down, but his blue optics dark and heavy with pleasure.

With little more prompting, Optimus allowed his panel to open and his cock slid out, extending to its full, impressive length. It was heavily ridged with a large flared tip and he gave it a loving stroke, rubbing the pad of one finger over the slit.

"You're quite beautiful for one of your caste," Optimus said fondly as he gazed at the prone bitch in front of him, complimenting and insulting at the same time. "Tell me," the leader murmured as he fastened a hand around the shaft of his cock, squeezing. "Is Megatron as big as me?"

Soundwave lowered his gaze.

Soundwave scooted closer, admiringly rubbing his cheek structure against the hot surface of his master's heavy cock. Soundwave began mouthing hungrily against the metal and his glossa curled around the spike, tracing the prominent ridges one by one. His breath was hot, fans already clicking on to cool his overheating chassis and he wiggled his aft in his own arousal, kneecaps scraping against the floor as his legs slid further open. His arms crossed and wrists locked against each other at the bottom of his back in a clear submissive position – after all, he had not received permission to use his hands yet.

"Megatron: no comparison," he purred as he placed more open-mouthed kisses on the rigid spike. "Optimus Prime: Far bigger...in all aspects."

Soundwave leisurely ran the flat of his glossa up the long length before closing his lips at the spike's tip, lowering his helm as he swallowed more and more until he reached the base of the housing. His throat tubing relaxed, flexing instinctively around the intrusion and then he tightened his mouth around the spike and sucked.

Optimus groaned, his helm pressed far back into the top of his chair. He pressed his hand against the back of Soundwave's helm, holding him there.

"You would know all about Megatron, wouldn't you?" Prime groaned. Pleasure flared through his circuits, deep-seated and so very right. Optimus shifted one of his legs and pressed them in between Soundwave's spread ones, rubbing on the mech's panel with his shin guard plating.

The Decepticon groaned when Optimus' shin pushed upwards against his crotch panel, applying enough force to ignite the pressure-sensitive sensors there. He could feel the lubricant slowly trickling down his valve to tantalize the sensitive walls within, preparing it for penetration and it made him rock shamelessly against the Autobot's leg, trapping it possessively between his thighs to keep it from moving.

"Mm, I want you dripping wet for me," Optimus said, shifting his head down so he could intently watch the mech sucking him off, a lazy-pleasured look on his face. "Hopefully your little hole is all nice and tight for me. You haven't been playing around without me, have you?"

"No."

With a moment's pause, Optimus said, "You may use your hands."

Now that he had permission, Soundwave slid the palm of his hand around Prime's silver leg, his dexterous fingers seeking and stimulating the joints underneath.

Then, Soundwave pulled away from Optimus' spike to defend himself tetchily. "Megatron and I are not lovers."

Soundwave also felt it prudent to add, vehemence creeping in to colour his words. "Conclusion: You are the only one I allow to fuck me. My valve will always be tight and wet for you."

"Megatron may not be your lover now," Optimus said sharply in reply.

Optimus' other free hand went down and he massaged a finger over the tip of his spike, smearing the bead of precum across the flared tip of his cock.

"They must wonder where you go…" Optimus moved a hand so he could smear Soundwave's lips with transmetal fluid, leaving a glossy sheen behind. "And when you go back, smelling like a freshly fucked whore…sated and tired. What would Megatron do if he found out you love coming back filled up with the cum of your enemy?"

"I am always careful," Soundwave replied. "They never know."

Or cared for that matter. And his Cassettes knew better than to pester him for answers and he definitely didn't want to burden them with his insecurities.

Soundwave continued. "And Megatron..."

Soundwave never laughed. If he did, in that rare occasional moment in the heat of the battle. But his real laugh filtered through his vocaliser, deep and a little harsh with irony. He used his free hand to touch his thighs, fingers trailing up a seam slowly up to his exposed interface, up to trace his spike housing.

Soundwave changed tactics and shifted his legs, allowing them to fall further apart and give the Autobot a perfect view of his wet valve. At first he pinched at the rim and protective folds until he hissed at the sharp sensation and then used two fingers to spread it wide in an erotically obscene gesture. Dark blue fingertips slipped around the glistening area, smearing the beads of lubricant which had gathered at the quivering opening.

Soundwave smiled crookedly as the light in his optics dimmed to a smouldering orange. "Megatron would do far worse to me if he ever found out. Termination would be far preferable. Question: would it sadden you?"

"I am a compassionate leader. I let you into my base, with me, I let you touch me, I fuck you hard like you want it, and I touch you in return. What more do you want from me?" Optimus suddenly snarled.

Soundwave tensed and his smile remained frozen on his faceplates. He was inwardly snarling like an enraged beast, cursing Optimus for being a sadistic glitch. Abruptly the Decepticon relaxed visibly and raised his hand to his parted lips, flicking his glossa over the digits to taste his own fluids. He said instead, "Philosophy: I am a pragmatist. Hope is for fools."

With a smooth shift of powerful hydraulics, Soundwave stood up as directed. He took his time doing so, his legs still bent in a crouch. A moan rumbled through his vocaliser when he briefly nuzzled the proudly jutting spike – that wonderful, wonderful spike that gave him so much pleasure – in front of him and further straightened his backstrut, pushing his torso towards Optimus and allowing the wet tip to gently brush over his abdominal plating. Soundwave didn't stop there, sticking out his glossa to press against the windshield of Optimus' powerful alt-mode, smudging the glass with his oils right on the invisible seam in the middle where he knew the chestplates split apart. Soundwave could feel the powerful spark pulse from within and he couldn't possibly imagine what merging with the Matrix could feel like... and he knew that he probably never would. Still, it was a nice fantasy.

"Will you fuck me, Optimus Prime?" Soundwave whispered into the Autobot's neck cables, straining his own and standing onto the tips of his pedes so he could reach them. The heat radiated from his chassis in waves, small little whimpers escaping his vocaliser. "Hard."

Optimus reached his hands down and took Soundwave's shoulders, walking him backwards until the mech's aft hit the wall.

He spun Soundwave around, smashing his front into the hard surface.

"You want to be fucked hard? Alright, I'll fuck you," Optimus grunted, hands holding tight and hard on Soundwave's hips. Then he easily lifted Soundwave's weight up, moving him off of his pedes, and twisted his arms so Soundwave's hips jutted out, valve exposed perfectly for his pleasure. With little more prompting he let Soundwave slid down on his own and then rammed his cock up harshly, spearing Soundwave's valve.

Soundwave hissed loudly the moment he felt Optimus' cock enter him.

His hands scrambled up the wall, trying to find purchase as best as he could but they just ended up sliding down the smooth surface with a dull squeak. Soundwave could feel the inside of his valve stretch around Prime's impressive girth and it should have been painful but the sensation was something he greatly relished.

Optimus fingers dug hard into Soundwave's pelvic plating, no doubt creating dents, grunting as he thrust upwards.

"Oh...you feel so good, Autobot..." Soundwave slurred, the words filled with static. His optics were bright with lust, the orange light from within almost flickering. "Much better than Megatron." And for emphasis he clenched his valve tightly around the invading spike, his mouth falling open, wet glossa darting out to curl at his parted lips.

"Of course I'm better than Megatron," Optimus snarled roughly, his hands quivering. "You might not believe..." he grunted, and drove his hips upwards again, "but a long time ago, ahh, I fucked Megatron. I was the desirable would-be Prime…while he was a gladiator."

Soundwave glanced at Optimus, more surprised at the fact that had never picked the memory in either leader's processor – particularly Megatron's – rather than the actual revelation itself. The thought passed through his processor quickly, he couldn't concentrate.

Not when he was getting fucked like this.

Soundwave absolutely loved how the angle made his valve feel so much smaller, and Prime's large cock rubbed hard against his inner walls each time Optimus moved. Soundwave could feel the ridges rub against every single sensor node he possessed. It made him cry out, a high and needy sound that filtered from his vocaliser.

Soundwave also loved how he could sense the raw power practically oozing from the mech behind him and oh...how he loved being controlled and put in his place. Those strong, powerful hips keeping him pinned with no chances of escape and the feel of that massive spike impaling him over and over. Soundwave's circuits sang with the thrill and now he was practically sobbing with the pleasure.

The Decepticon was forced nearly to the tips of his pedes, trying to match Optimus' thrusts with his own frantic ones. The glass on his chest creaked against the wall with each movement and he clawed frantically into it, leaving tell-tale scratches. Each time Optimus pulled out, lubricant would surge out of Soundwave's wet valve, splattering on the floor between his spread legs.

"Ah ah ah...yes, there!" Soundwave's mouth gleamed with oils from where he kept licking at it, the corner of his lip pulled up in a feral grin. "Won't you dominate me, Optimus Prime?" Soundwave would not stop looking at Prime, challenging him even further with his sideways stare; vivid optics feverish with lust and one of them, the lighter coloured one was so bright that it was a near amber.

"Just hearing you moan makes me so hot," Optimus grunted, thrusting his hips up hard, the slapping of his pelvic unit on Soundwave's aft filling the room with noise. Overload was approaching, but he held it off, pausing for a moment as he shifted his spike within Soundwave's tight hole.

Optimus' crude words only made Soundwave's spark burn brighter and his valve wetly spasm around the invading spike. It was a heady feeling, knowing that he was enough to make the Autobot lose control.

It was hurting now, the way Soundwave was being handled. Optimus' blue fingers gripped the plating of his hips and the way that spike was impaling him, scraping up inside him despite the copious amount of lubricant he was releasing. It only seemed to sharpen his pleasure even more... in such a depraved, masochistic way.

Soundwave did moan; ragged gasps and mewls escaping his wide open mouth, sometimes muffled by the wall when it got too much and he couldn't help but thrash his helm from one side to the other, grazing the contours of his helm it. He was mentally chanting his lover's designation now, deliberately projecting it straight into Optimus' processor, over and over.

'_Optimus... Optimus... more... more...'_

Soundwave could feel himself nearing his peak, chassis shuddering and his valve constricting tighter and tighter with the building overload, forcing the friction to intensify. With Prime's fingers rubbing around his housing, distracting him, Soundwave momentarily felt whatever control he had unravel. His spike extended abruptly and past Optimus' teasing digits, the metal length hot and rigid, proudly pointing towards the wall.

As loud as he previously was, Soundwave hardly made a sound when his overload finally washed over him. His helm snapped back, cords of his neck straining with the movement as his intakes frantically swallowed as much air as they could. Through his numb circuits and seized servos, all he could feel was his spike splashing transfluid against the wall in front of him and his valve squeezing and clenching so hard that it practically trapped Optimus inside of him.

"Fuck!"

With a fierce growl of his engine Optimus overloaded, unable to keep fighting against the tight constriction of Soundwave's valve around him. Transfluid spurted from the tip of his spike into that tightness, up into the telepath's reproductive tank, filling him up. The warm mixture of fluids ran down the plating of his legs and onto the floor.

Optimus gripped Soundwave's hips with one hand and his chassis with the other and staggered a few steps backwards, carefully setting himself down on his berth, where he then sprawled out behind him, arms and frame splayed out on his berth. Prime's cock was still inside the telepath's valve, and every so often his hips would jerk as that valve clenched around him again.

Prime's chassis heaved with the effort of supporting Soundwave's from such a strenuous activity, and he allowed the cool air from his room to glide in and out of his intakes to cool his systems. A moment later he grabbed the back of Soundwave's neck, then the top on his helm, pulling him to lay flat on his back, flush with his steaming chassis.

"I thought I told you to keep your mind to yourself?" he hissed, leaning down and arching his stomach so he could bite at the telepath's neck warningly.

Soundwave made a pleased, sated rumble and his vents hitched a little when he felt the Prime's denta press against the sensitive tubing of his neck. "You did not seem to care at the time. Besides..." Soundwave emitted a low, mechanical purr from his vocaliser. "... Extracting information was not my priority at the time...not when I was enjoying the feel of you being so deep inside me."

Soundwave lazily wrapped one leg around Optimus' hip, keeping their wet, exposed interface arrays close and enjoying the feel of that spike still nestled in his now sore, over-stimulated valve, acting like a secure plug to keep the precious transfluid from leaking out. The very thought of it delighted him and he entertained a passing notion of fashioning a small toy to do exactly the same thing. Or trying to scoop out what was left of Optimus' essence out of him and savouring the taste the moment he returned to the privacy of his own quarters.

The warnings had started up again, reminding him of his near empty tanks. Soundwave ignored them, his fuel pump stuttering a little as he tried to conserve enough energy for the journey back. The usually glaring orange of his optics abruptly dimmed but at least he managed to squish the popup windows.

One of his hands glided down the Autobot's back plating, tracing the seams. "Optimus..." he breathed, tilting his chin up so he could press small kisses up the other mech's lower mandible. "Query: do I not deserve a treat?"

Optimus' helm tilted up at those words, blue optics lazy and sated. "Yeah whatever," he said, tilting his hips up, freeing his spike from the depths of Soundwave's valve so he could retract it. He then motioned over to the dispenser. "Ss'over there."

With a stifled yawn, the big Autobot stood up and walked to his personal shower racks with Soundwave's gaze tracking his every moment. Soundwave could hear the sound of the shower unit starting up and could imagine the Optimus already scouring his plating with a brush to wash all evidence of their affair from his body.

Soundwave laid there for a long moment, sprawled out on the berth, before managing to stand up. Then he wearily stumbled towards the dispenser, ignoring the rush of liquid trickling down his thighs. It took two full cubes for his systems to reach optimal level. The energon was delicious, fresh and rich in substance. Soundwave grimaced at the memory of the low-grade they processed back on the Nemesis. He retracted his interfacing panel and pulled out a cloth from subspace to mop up the remains of their encounter from his legs.

The garishly-painted wall opposite him dripped with the cooling, almost congealed transfluid and Soundwave debated whether to clean it up or not. Then Soundwave cast a longing glance at the washracks again. Optimus Prime would never allow him to join. He knew that very well. That would be too intimate and too friendly of a gesture.

Soundwave's mouth twisted, the expression on his exposed faceplates ugly. Out of spite, he subspaced the sodden rag and produced two more cubes from his chest compartment, filling them up to the brim for his Cassettes. If he was going to whore himself out like that, he might as well receive some form of payment. The Decepticon's visor and mask snapped closed over his face as he walked past Optimus Prime and found the secret panel so he could leave.


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter two

* * *

After his scrub in the washracks, Optimus returned to his berth and cleaned up the slight mess on it. He drew down upon it with a heavy sigh and gazed darkly at the dirty wall and floor that was glistening with cold lubricant and transmetal fluid, and he supposed he would end up cleaning it later.

A terrible pain suddenly gripped him and he grunted, hands reaching up to clutch at his chassis as sharp pierces of agony swept through him. The vents worked furiously on his chassis, and for several minutes, he didn't move. Of course it was the matrix. Whenever he felt content, or sated, or even remotely happy, it would detect it and give him pain. He thought that it was a reminder that nothing was ever good enough. Things had to be perfect, absolutely flawless before he believed the matrix would leave him in a moment's peace.

Finally, his muscle cables stopped seizing up and he drifted into recharge, too tired and hurt to do anything.

Morning came quickly, and morning meant Prowl. Optimus flicked his optics on and checked his comm, noticing the multitude of pings the mech had sent him. His systems had been too downtrodden to even attempt to wake him up for such a small thing, and pain seared through his frame when he tried to move.

A groan left him and he nestled his helm back into his metallo-mesh pillows, deciding that he really didn't want to get up. Not that he even could in the sort of miserable pain that he was in. So he stayed in the exact position he fell asleep in, and only then noticed a shadow obscuring some of the light, which most certainly signified another mech.

"Get out," he muttered tiredly.

"Nice try," Ratchet said calmly in reply, "but with the pain you're in, I have a job to do."

The CMO's jaw was tense, backstrut set rigidly straight as the scent of sex permeated his senses. It wasn't hard to miss the stains on the floor and wall; milky purple coloured transfluid with the unmistakeable markings of clear lubricant that had congealed on the floor. Obviously Prime had had a lot of fun during the past night.

Of course, he couldn't help but wonder who that lucky bot was.

"Ratchet," Prime finally recognized, his gaze flicking over his CMO's form as the mech dipped into a quick bow.

"Here, this should help you," the medic said, and a needle appeared in his hand. He kneeled down before the edge of the berth and brushed a hand over Optimus's bare face, fingers settling in the hollow of his neck, where he quickly prepared a spot to penetrate. The needle easily slipped into Prime's foremost energon line, and Ratchet took his time injecting the contents.

"So who'd you 'face last night?" he casually observed, shifting his arms as Prime stirred. As he kept a thumb on the back of the plunger, he looked around the room for more clues. Paint colours, personal effects, anything, but he only noticed a white dash of paint that didn't belong on Prime's hips, and also his leg. Probably either Jazz or Prowl then. Or maybe Prime had taken mech on the outside of the group.

"Ratchet," Prime said lowly, and his optics flashed dangerously, his face smoothing into a solid frown.

"Apologies, it's none of my business," the medic soothed, hand touching Optimus's massive shoulder. "You could have just called up Ironhide or myself. You know we're more than capable of handling you in your moods," he teased.

Ah, yes, _those_ moods. Jazz and Prowl were a bit too delicate when he was feeling the matrix's effects, and the larger broader frames of Ratchet and Ironhide were preferable. Rough, heavy fucking, where Optimus released his emotions in a sexual form. The matrix wouldn't allow him to express his emotions, so it was the next best thing.

Ratchet pitied him for it.

Pulling that needle out, he slipped his pede completely back down upon the flooring and it tapped into something, and of course he couldn't help but look down. Instantly, he wished he hadn't.

There was a weapon on the floor, a circular shoulder mounted cannon that looked all too familiar. White, and blue, with a turret on the end for multiple firing points, he was quite sure he'd seen the weapon pointed at him a time or two. Ratchet couldn't help his mouth from opening in astonishment.

Prime leaned over the berth to look and his own blue optics widened, turning nearly white in colouring as his pump seemed to stop dead in his chassis, and a choked breath of air filtered out of his intakes before he surged up and had Ratchet by the neck. He pushed the CMO back against the wall, his expression furious while the mech furtively grasped at his arms, fingers clawing into his plating as he begged for air.

For several moments it stayed that way before Prime dropped his hold. Ratchet, blue optics nearly black, fell to the floor. His lips were parted obscenely as he gasped for breath into his intakes, hands massaging the tubing along his neck. "_Prime,_" he said, and launched onto all fours, lowering himself to bow. "I know it's not my place to question what you do, but _him_?" he rasped before continuing. "I don't think that Primus would approve of what you're doing. You're risking the entire organisation at that, just by fucking him!" he moaned out beseechingly. "Please Prime, if you're not interested in any of the high command, just pick someone out among the troops. I'll debrief them of the situation and you can have them. I'm sure there's an attractive mech you want, isn't there? Mirage, maybe Sunstreaker? Both of the twins?" he quickly asked, quite willingly pawning off any mech that he could.

Optimus unclenched his fists and strode over to the berth, where he used his pede to move Soundwave's weapon underneath the berth, out of view. How could the mech so foolishly forget an item such as that? His mind seethed, and the matrix raged. But the sedatives were taking effect and he was slowly starting to calm down, composure being forcibly thrust onto him. Still, he did not apologise for his violent actions. "You saw nothing, Ratchet. If you mention this to anyone, even Wheeljack, I'll have your CPU modified," he softly spoke, and strode over to the washracks. He grabbed a few rags and wet them under the warm water, then went back and started to clean the mess on his wall and floor.

A part of him was mildly impressed with the large amount of transfluid that Soundwave had managed to procure in the short time his spike had been out, but soon it was mopped up and he was no more happy. Cleaning up the cold mess of interfacing wasn't something he was accustomed at doing. On Cybertron, he had mechs that had cleaned _him_ after interfacing, the mess too. Perhaps, next time they met, which would undoubtedly be soon because of the missing weapon, he would demand that Soundwave not show up again. Door locks could be changed, security could be tightened. Even if he was forced to keep Blaster around to stop any mental intrusions, it was the price he had to pay for his mistakes. Ratchet was right; Primus would not approve, did not, and he knew that he could easily become swayed by such a powerful telepath.

Perhaps Soundwave had been planting thoughts in his head to keep continuing their relationship anyway? Now that he thought about it, all of it did seem rather absurd. Sure, the interfacing was hot and great, but was it really worth the pressure on his psyche? The matrix was egging him to make a decision, and it was making him think negatively of Soundwave.

_Liar, cheater..._ it purred to him. _He's just using you for pleasure..._ _You think you're special to him? What about Megatron? Megatron fucks him too. And you_hate_Megatron..._

That line of thought he couldn't deny. To him, it seemed rational.

Beside him, Ratchet hesitantly stood when Optimus was done cleaning up the mess. "Yes Prime, I understand," he answered softly, his voice nearly back to normal. His face radiated intelligence that Optimus did not miss.

Swiftly Prime straightened up the rest of his room and quickly snapped his facemask back on, then strode out with his personal surgeon upon his heels. He exited his rooms and was in his office, where he had Prowl waiting for him, but he paid the mech no mind and continued on, going out into the main hallway where the rest of the _Ark_ tread.

He stopped and cordially greeted Skyfire, who was more than interested to chat with him about a recent experiment he had been conducting. It was based on the factors of creating an energon chip that could be easily created and used for a long time, and essentially would end the need for energon, and thus, in reality, the war itself. For basically, now, that's all it was. Petty warfare amongst starving mechs. Though thankfully the Autobots had been on the upside of that battle, and while Prime had his reservations about continuing the meaninglessness, they now had the humans to protect, and human resources to protect.

That, and Megatron's insane tyrannical rule. The mech wouldn't quit even if the Decepticons could have all the energon in the universe. He wanted to attempt a takeover of the galaxy, and as Prime had seen firsthand, he knew they would eventually be stopped with how shaky the upper command was getting.

What if Megatron knew he was fucking his third-in-command? It seemed now that Soundwave only showed up when he wanted energon. A cheap whore who just wanted some food to feed himself and his symbiotes. Another reason Prime shouldn't have been that interested in him. He had mechs that were more than willing to be with him on the berth, and like it in every way. Because they wanted to be with him, the Prime, closest mech to Primus.

But no one knew the real Optimus Prime. Really, he still wished to be called Orion Pax. The thought brought back pleasant memories of Dion and Ariel, back when things were simple, back before he had been chosen by the matrix to be reformatted and made to lead the entire planet. It was like a second life now, and most of his memories of that time had been forcibly erased by the high council for his 'protection'. He never had a choice in anything, and while that was unfair, it was the way life was.

A door opened to his right and he briskly walked inside, but no one else was allowed to follow. It was a big room, biggest on the Ark, and it was also a shrine to Primus, the only place where no others but Prime were allowed to step pede. It was considered unholy and blasphemy were another mech to follow inside, or even look. Even mechs that walked up and down the hallways during the day always averted their optics, and some even covered their optics as they passed the door, in case it ever opened when they were near. Most Autobots, most Cybertronians, would rather die than commit that act. Punishment for looking was severe, punishment for entering was death.

At the altar Prime kneeled, drawing his hands up to rest on a dais which was specially fitted for his broad forearms. There, above on the crystal wrought table, was a glass with a glowing sphere of energy in it.

The glowing light of Primus.

It was darker than normal, and the energy within it churned slowly. The God was sleeping.

It was not Primus's spark, no, that rested deep within the surface of Cybertron, but it was a medium that allowed Optimus to contact the God if he so wished. But, he never woke the sleeping giant. He waited for Primus to wake, always, for he dared not disturb him. Nor did he have the desire. If something important were to happen, the God always warned him. Or, he did nothing at all.

Shifting upon his knees, Optimus Prime drew his head down and prayed. Though for what, he didn't know.

Soundwave was absolutely livid with himself. First he endangered himself by sneaking into the _Ark_. And _then_he blithely forgot his sonic blaster there. For what? A session of hot interfacing and ridicule? Granted that he was exhausted and that he had to manually shut half his configuration systems down in order to quell those low-fuel warnings from earlier. He was prompted that the weapon slot on his shoulder was empty when he did a full systems check only _after_leaving the volcano.

He rubbed irritably at his helm before tapping his fingers on a crest, wondering just how to retrieve the damn thing. Optimus might keep it safely hidden for him until the next time...that is, if he didn't punish him for forgetting it in the first place. Or worse – deem their relationship too risky to continue. Soundwave would rather rip the Autobot's processor to pieces and leave him a mindless shell than let him go.

Dead End's morose face greeted him upon arrival.

"There's no point watching for that step-"

Soundwave stepped off the elevator, expertly minding the sizable gap.

"-because you're only gonna trip on it anyway," the Stunticon finished. He appeared disappointed for a brief moment – though it rather hard to tell from the grim expression he usually wore – before hefting a leg uncaringly over the console. A well-worn rag mysteriously appeared in one hand and a small bottle of expensive polish in the other.

"Requirement: have Constructicons repair elevator malfunction. Priority: level three."

Dead End paused in his preening. "Oh what's the point of doing that when it's just going to break again and again and then at some point we're all going to end up offline and there's going to be no one around to fix it so there's no point fixing it _now_..."

Soundwave listened to Dead End moan about how pointless everything was for less than a klik before firmly interrupting him. "Command: have Constructicons repair elevator malfunction. Priority: level two."

"But-"

Now he was beginning to get a cpu-ache. "There is no point in polishing yourself now when I am currently very close to terminating you. The charge: extreme vexation. Predicted result: your spark chamber nailed onto my wall."

It wasn't as if Soundwave was going to follow through his threat, simply because it was not worth facing Megatron's wrath for losing the use of Menasor. It was still satisfying to make it however. The other mech gave him one last dirty look but obediently punched in a connection to the Constructicons. Hook's scathing remarks could still be heard even as Soundwave rounded the corner and walked down the hallway leading towards the officers' quarters. In the meantime he probed the bond he shared with his Cassettes to check up on them. All of them, with exception with Laserbeak, responded. Soundwave assumed that was because Laserbeak was off-base; their type of arrangement was symbiotic in nature and depended on range, unlike the more intimate and permanent link shared by mates.

Again Optimus Prime managed to flit through his thoughts and Soundwave felt his spark give a hungry pulse at the memory of their recent encounter, the sensation travelling all the way down to settle at his pleasantly sore valve.

And then he had the misfortune of running into Starscream whose shift must have just finished as his optics were dim with the lack of recharge. Still...in spite of the animosity between them, Soundwave could not help but secretly admire the Seeker's confident gait; the gently swaying hips, shiny wings held high and those thruster heels making those gorgeous white legs look even longer. Starscream's small poisonous mouth curled into its customary sneer the moment he spotted the other mech.

"Just come in eh? Where the pit where you?"

Ah there it was, that grating voice that never failed to annoy him. Really, what a waste of a perfectly good, serviceable mouth. Such a shame. Soundwave used to entertain many a fantasy in the past with various ways of making it shut up.

His visor flashed once and then darkened. "Explanation: not required."

"Explanation to second-in-command from third-in-command: _required_," Starscream insisted mockingly.

It seemed that Soundwave's plans for a long, relaxing wash would have to wait a little longer. "Mission: Lord Megatron's orders."

"Mission?" Starscream's optics brightened with suspicion. "Why was I not informed?"

_Because you're an obnoxious piece of slag_, Soundwave thought resentfully to himself. Of course Megatron hadn't ordered anything like that. And even if Starscream did get over his arrogance to complain about it to their _superb_leader, Soundwave could always use his telepathy to suggest that yes, yes he did in fact order Soundwave to do a little reconnaissance mission for him. It wouldn't have been the first time.

He robotically rumbled out in his response. "Priority: very low."

The Seeker leaned in close with a malicious glint in his optics, warm air from his intakes washing over Soundwave's chassis and making him scowl behind his faceplate. "So what did old Rust-Bucket have you do?"

Soundwave said nothing and Starscream continued regardless. "Interface one of the squishies' telephone poles? Hmm... Bet you enjoyed doing that, didn't you?"

His seemingly endless patience ended as Starscream opened his mouth to add more. There was a high-pitched yelp, Starscream pulling back when sparks jumped briefly from the side of his helm. He looked up with a snarl. "Don't you dare do that again, you fraggi-"

The energon seemed to freeze in Soundwave's lines when the other's gaze suddenly zeroed in onto the empty space on his shoulder, much like a heat-seeking missile.

"Where's your weapon? And why do you stink like-"

"Yo Boss!"

Never before was Soundwave grateful for an interruption than he was now.

"Boss! Don't make us do the triple shift!"

Rumble and Frenzy skidded on the floor beside them and immediately turned their blinking, pleading visors towards him. Soundwave frowned, wondering what exactly they were up to. He allowed the tendrils of his telepathy to briefly skim the surface of Rumble's recipient mind.

"Weapon," he finally said after withdrawing from his Cassette's processor. "Currently in pieces on my personal work station. Have yet to filter out all the... liquid."

"Yeah Boss, we didn't mean to steal it!"

"We're sorry about messin' it up!"

Starscream spared the Cassette twins a passing glare, more out of curiosity's sake than anything else. "What exactly were you two cretins trying to achieve?"

Frenzy stuck his glossa out rudely. "We wanted to play with it, okay?"

It was somewhat amusing that Soundwave could almost hear Starscream's thought processes grind to a halt when he somehow managed to connect the words 'play' and 'liquid' together into something that not even Frenzy and Rumble would be...adventurous enough to bring to their berth. Starscream's dark grey features scrunched up in disgust.

"That is... Primus! I really have no words for that." He smartly pivoted on his heels and started to stomp past them, but not without throwing one last comment at Soundwave. "I altered the schedule. Your merry band of freaks have monitor duty in three cycles. Make sure that they're not late."

Rumble promptly made an offensive human gesture using his middle finger though it was completely ignored. "Hey! TC and 'Warp were supposed to have that shift. Not us!"

Starscream paused and tilted his head to one side, the nasty smile evident from between his high shoulder vent. "Well then. Consider it as part of your discipline for hah...ruining Soundwave's blaster."

The two small Cassetticons stood there, both glowering mutinously before Rumble stepped forward and shook his fist at Starscream. "Frag ya, Screamer. I oughta do everyone a favour and pound ya into scrap!"

Starscream's wings flared back at the insult as he aggressively pointed one null-ray towards the blue twin. In retaliation, Rumble shifted both his arms into piledrivers while Frenzy began to prepare a sonic attack.

"Why you little...!"

"Bring it on!"

Soundwave's mouth thinned with displeasure and he aimed another telepathic _zap_at the tri-coloured mech to stop the tiff before it escalated into a full-blown battle in the narrow corridor. Starscream reeled back, one cobalt-blue hand clutching his helm.

"I'll have you all put into the brig for insubordination!" he screeched.

Soundwave was not impressed. In all the time they served as Decepticons, Starscream had never been able to convince Megatron to give Soundwave such a... trivial punishment. Half the time Megatron just laughed in his face. "Current mood: aggravated." He was not lying this time. "Rumble and Frenzy shall be properly disciplined."

And with that he brushed past the Seeker, perfectly content to leave him standing there sputtering with rage. He fully expected his Cassettes to follow him and they did, even bounding in front so they could open the door to their shared rooms for him. Ravage greeted them from Soundwave's berth, one red optic lazily flickering online.

"Woo, did ya see his face?"

"I can't believe he just went and decided to change our shifts like that!"

"He's such an afthead!"

Soundwave tuned out the twins' chattering and passed an affectionate caress over Ravage's backstrut before he sank down heavily onto his chair, the gears in his pelvis and leg joints creaking in protest with the movement. His helm lolled back and he tiredly looked around the room, absently reminding himself to scold Rumble for leaving his games equipment scattered all over the floor again. But not now...oh, he was so weary. All he wanted to do was relax for a little bit. And then have that long-deserved shower. Thank Primus for personal washracks.

"Query: have you refuelled recently?" Soundwave asked, after a long moment.

Rumble paused in mid-tirade to shake his helm. "Nah. Not since last time. Why? You got?"

While the other Decepticons were afraid to confront Soundwave, he knew that the twins' rambunctious and blunt attitude often got them in a lot of trouble with the bigger mechs who would not hesitate to steal their energon rations and drink it right in front of them when Soundwave wasn't present. It didn't matter whether Rumble and Frenzy often won the fights afterwards; the energon meant for them was still lost. Soundwave tried to stop the bullying many times, but nobody liked a tattletale and the twins were too prideful to admit the times that did escape his watchful optic.

He pulled out one of the full cubes from his subspace and slid it across the berth's surface towards Ravage's front paws. The pink liquid sloshed against the protective top film and Ravage waited for it to settle as he stretched his sinuous, black chassis from its previous curled up position.

"Where'd ya get that huge cube from?" Frenzy questioned.

Soundwave resolutely watched Ravage delicately lap at the energon, despite feeling the glare of two small visors weigh down on him. His silence was met with Frenzy's vents huffing with exasperation.

"Boss, where'd ya get that cube?" Frenzy tried again.

"I have my ways," Soundwave answered vaguely.

He wasn't sure how Rumble and Frenzy managed to time both their disbelieving snorts to come out precisely the same time, just passing it off as the many oddities pertaining Cybertronian twins. By then, Ravage had finished his share and merely nudged the cube away from himself. Rumble reached over and snatched it from the berth.

"Boss, this is really good stuff," he exclaimed with an appreciative hum after a long gulp. "Seriously, where'd ya get it?"

"Did ya get it from Megsy's secret stash?" Frenzy goaded with a wide grin. "Bet ya did!"

"Yes," Soundwave said as he hoisted his frame off the chair, determined to have that wash before they started asking him more questions. Frenzy's next set of words stopped him in his tracks.

"Or did ya get it from Prime?"

The telepath turned around. "What did you say?"

Frenzy had managed to get a hold of the cube now. He wiped his lip components with the back of his hand before focusing his full attention back at Soundwave, not even flinching at his superior's intense stare. "Don't lie to us, Boss. We're not blind, ya know."

"We were kinda hoping for ya to admit it," Rumble said flatly, looking down at his pedes and trying to look nonchalant. "It was kinda hard to miss after a while. Especially with that blue streak on yer aft. No one here on the _Nemesis_has that sorta blue."

His gaze then pointedly focused on the inner plating of Soundwave's left thigh, right underneath his closed panel where he had neglected to clean the seam properly. The dried lubricant had left a dull, matte mark on the paint. Barely noticeable to others, glaringly obvious to his observant Cassetticons.

"Evidence: inconclusive."

"Ravage followed ya," Rumble continued. "He saw Prime fucking ya like some two-credit tart from the gladiator pits."

Rumble's simple statement stung horribly because he ended up successfully describing it exactly how it was. Soundwave slammed his palm down on the surface of his desk, the sharp noise too loud in the suddenly quiet room. The secondary vocaliser crackled, unable to synthesise the sheer vehemence out of his voice. "I am not a traitor!"

"I never said ya were!"

It was amazing how Soundwave still projected an indifferent image when it was all turmoil and chaos within his circuits, the tension thrummed so strongly through him, almost threatening to choke his fuel pump. Soundwave straightened his frame to his full height, slowly and purposely to tower over the three mechs. Rumble and Frenzy both mirrored each other with the stubborn expression on their faceplates and although Ravage had not moved from the berth, his intelligent optics were bright and alert.

"Yer thinking of formatting our memory cells, aren't ya?" Frenzy finally said, the accusation clear in his tone.

"Affirmative," Soundwave admitted calmly.

"Did ya really think we were going to go running to Megatron after covering for ya just now with that glitch Screamer? Especially afterletting ya know that we know? C'mon boss, we're not _that_stupid."

He sent a remote command to the door's control panel, the locking mechanism securing into place with a serious of ominous clicks. "I don't know. Are you?"

"Ya know ya can't take us all at once," Frenzy said in a low voice, one side of his mouth tilting upwards. "And ya know I can easily override that door."

"On the contrary, I don't even have to move."

He wasn't the type to advertise the full extent of his mind abilities after all. All Megatron had cared was that he got the job done. Rumble grimaced as he took in his brother's challenging smirk before punching him solidly in the arm.

"Ow! What'd ya do that-"

"Look Boss," Rumble said seriously, ignoring Frenzy completely. "We're not gonna betray yer secret. Not now, not ever. Scan our processors if ya don't believe us."

He took up Rumble's offer without hesitation and was not discreet about it either. He was too agitated, too wound up to even attempt gentleness. Instead, he swept through their thoughts like a tsunami, tearing into their intent with a fierceness that made the twins cringe and even Ravage whimper, triangular ears flattening against his dark head. Satisfied and more than relieved with what he found, Soundwave dropped back onto his chair with a resounding _clank_.

"Who else knows?" he asked, monotone duller than usual.

"Besides us?" Rumble gestured with one arm, retracting his visor so he could rub at the area around his optics. "No one else. Although..."

"We ain't sure about the other three," Frenzy picked up where his brother trailed off. "Laserbeak spends a lotta time doing spying stuff for Megatron, Ratbat is his usual dronish self and Buzzsaw is uh... Buzzsaw I guess."

"Good. Keep it like that."

"Just one thing, Boss?"

Soundwave inclined his helm towards Frenzy, the deep red of his visor sharpening to one side.

"Do ya love him?"

This time, Soundwave was unable to restrain himself from flinching. That _was_the ten million credit question, wasn't it?


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter three

* * *

Seekers, Seekers. He loved them, but hated them at the same time.

Starscream was a well known traitor and backstabber, always trying usurp the order. Sucked a good spike though. Skywarp, the annoying troublemaker who didn't know when to keep his ailerons out of other mech's business. If it weren't for his warping abilities, he would've been completely worthless. And Thundercracker…well…his wavering dedication to the Decepticon cause was something that Megatron had been meaning to attend to for some time. Megatron kneaded his hand against Starscream's helm, a content look on his face as Starscream worked over his spike.

The dominant hand cupping the back of Starscream's helm kept him steady and in place, but he didn't mind so much…for now. He merely contented himself with sucking and slurping at the hard spike filling his mouth, working it down his throat tubing, the hot length of it burning pleasantly against the sensitive sensors lining inside.

"Mmmm..."

He glanced up, crimson optics smouldering with a look he rarely gave. His vocaliser made a low chirr, and he knew the vibrations would cause a pleasant sensation that Megatron could appreciate. The intakes adorning his chestplates spun lazily, indicating his rising core temperature. The Seeker adjusted his position, sliding his legs further apart. His own interface panel was closed for now, but he wasn't ready to let his pride go…just yet. One of his hands trailed teasingly down his own amber cockpit while the other ran slowly up the other mech's silver thigh, blue fingertips following a transformation seam.

Starscream pulled his helm back, the spike's tip leaving his lips with a barely audible _pop_. Around them the monitors beeped and blinked accordingly; some screens showing running lines of coding while others showed security camera feeds throughout the _Nemesis_.

"Lord Megatron…I truly must protest to this. You are wasting my valuable time when I could be easily coming up with ways to beat those infernal Autobots." Starscream's lubricant-smeared mouthplates were twisted into a sultry smile as he spoke, though the undercurrent of derision grew stronger with his next set of words. "At least that is what a _true_Decepticon leader would do."

Starscream moved the hand he had resting on Megatron's leg and wrapped it around the spike's base instead. He gave his wrist a quick twist, countering the smooth slide of his palm across the curved surface with a long lick to the set of hard ridges running across his leader's spike. Megatron's gaze was drawn away from the datapad he was reading at the feeling.

"Shut up," Megatron countered, a chuckle rumbling up from his throat. He gripped Starscream's cheek sharply, pulling on the dermal metal. "I'm leader, and _I'm_ working on the plans. You, on the other hand, are mostly only good for sucking spike, which you should be doing unless you'd prefer a face fuck instead," he warned tetchily, then let go. Megatron's red optics darkened, and he lazily reached out to touch Starscream's wing, drawing his finger up and down the leading edge. He traced patterns on it, then flattened his finger to start scratching his name on the red band of paint.

"Ugh, you unrefined, incompetent brute," Starscream snarled, bristling at the insult. His optics flashed in a mixture of anger...and arousal, for his wings fluttered and trembled underneath the pleasurable sting of Megatron's finger.

"I know you're just dying to finger yourself. Every time I nudge you with my pede you shiver," the silver mech chided.

"I am your Air Commander and second-in-command! Without me you couldn't possibly hope to even come close to gaining vic-"

Megatron drew his leg in between Starscream's as an example, and reached his pede up to rub it against the seeker's panel.

His predictable retort died in a gurgle of static and Starscream's small mouth opened wide in a gasp. The pede felt wonderful between his legs, making him raise himself on his knees briefly so he could grind down against it more firmly. His valve was already wet and aching to be filled, little sporadic spasms that sent desperate tingles up his circuits. With a sudden change of moods that only Starscream was capable of, his previous ire melted away, to be replaced by an easy, mischievous smirk instead. In truth, he figured that that Primus-damned datapad would not steal his leader's attention and definitely not his limelight.

"And I know you're just dying to watch me finger myself, my liege, are you not?" he said, his normally raspy voice sounding almost pleasant with its lust-induced huskiness. He leaned forward, displaying his glass cockpit alluringly to his leader and fanned out his wings, the upside-down Decepticon symbol glinting proudly. "Put down the datapad and focus on me. I'm _much_ more interesting...I promise."

With a languid roll of his red hips, Starscream began to rub his still-closed panel against the stretched out limb, agitating the pressure sensors inside. He took Megatron's spike back into his mouth with a long, drawn out moan and continued to tease the hot, textured surface with the tip of his glossa; from the slit at the top and down the long length of it, down, down until he reached the warlord's valve.

"Optics on me," he ordered when he came back up, squeezing the pede tightly between his thighs as his fans whirred faster. "Watch me pleasure you."

Starscream cleaned off the beginnings of lubricant beading at Megatron's valve's flexible rim and then closed his lips over the slick opening, teasing the ribbed walls inside with his glossa. While one hand slithered a finger inside to work alongside with the moving glossa, the other reached up to pump at the neglected spike, his dexterous fingers rubbing at every sensor-rich ridge, pausing every so often to squeeze and pinch the tip lightly.

Another fan deep within Megatron's chassis whirred to life, and for a moment he tensed, his red optics flashing as the datapad in his hand fell to the floor. Pleasure surged through him, from his pedes all the way to the top of his helm, and a soft groan parted from his lips. Megatron angled his hips out so Starscream could get at his valve easier and traced the edge of his wings with the tip of his claw.

"I'd say you were working for a promotion, Starscream, but then…you're never getting farther than where you are now," he said, shifting his leg to rub more insistently at Starscream's panel. He gave a patronizing pat on the seeker's head, watching the motions of the mech's mouth and glossa.

Here, Starscream narrowed his optics.

Licking his lips and rubbing a part of his leg that scratched on Starscream's panel, Megatron felt more lubricant build inside his own valve.

A plan was starting to formulate in his mind. Soon, the troops would need energon, and it was his job to deliver. It… had always been his first priority to make sure his troops were well fed before anything else. An easy task that didn't require his immediate presence. There were mechs far better at that kind of thing than him.

Over the communications system, he chimed for Soundwave. This time…they needed to achieve the objective, simple as that.

Once Soundwave chimed back, Megatron sent him a text to meet in the command room. If anyone could get a simple energon run done with minimal problems, it was the telepath.

"Hmm…do a good job and maybe I'll let you fuck me later…" he murmured to Starscream, his body growing just a fraction tenser.

"Well then," Starscream simpered, optics flicking up to gaze at Megatron with a deceitfully sweet and adoring look. "It is only proper that I prepare my Lord for such an event... should he be generous enough to grace me with such an honour."

"Don't get too excited. I said if you did a good job," Megatron replied, one optic powering up to a dim ember red. He grinned as his valve clenched around the digit fingering him, enjoying the feeling.

With a frown, he tapped Starscream on his helm. "I know you can work harder than that, you sleazy fuck."

In retaliation, Starscream roughly inserted a second digit into Megatron's valve and without preamble, moved and wiggled his fingers insistently, knowing that he was directly stimulating the interior node clusters. He rubbed at the ribbed walls, coaxing them to soften and stretch, enjoying the feel of them flexing around his invading fingers and hopefully later on, his spike.

With his optics off, Megatron lounged back in his chair, his helm lolled to the side as he fought not to press his hips on Starscream's hand as lubricant welled up in his valve, along with his pleasure nodes sending sensations up and down his frame. It tickled in a wonderful way.

Starscream pulled his mouth and fingers away, swiping his glossa around his glistening lip components and with a long, exaggerated moan and one long, sinuous movement, he arched his backstrut. One hand shifted to carelessly push Megatron's leg to the floor so that his interface panel could slide open, valve already ready and visibly shimmering with fluids. Starscream's crimson optics dimmed with desire, vents hitching as he plunged his already wet fingers into his own opening, more forcefully than he would ever dare with Megatron. Megatron grinned as he watched Starscream's fingers disappear in between his own legs.

It really was quite criminal the way Starscream managed to keep such coquettish expression on his faceplates while he worked himself back onto the erect spike in front of him, engulfing it in one go and knowing how good it felt when he sucked hard, his lips stretched so attractively around it.

Megatron's overload was nearing. Like a trigger in the back of his mind, he knew when he was getting closer, and his thighs tensed minutely. A moan broke from his lips, half muffled by his hand.

Ah, ah, there. Just a little bit longer now.

The Seeker was already lost in the pleasure of having that spike inside his mouth and his fingers inside the warmth of his own clenching valve, so lost in fact that he didn't notice a third presence joining them. The almost silent _swoosh_of the automated door registered too late in Starscream's already hazy processor, but the sound of pedes hitting the cold, hard floor finally caused him to turn his helm to the side even though he already _knew_ who had the gall to interrupt them. The Air Commander stared almost comically, with his mouth full of spike and his optics bright with astonishment. Soundwave's visor barely flickered as Starscream indignantly drew back from between Megatron's thighs with a muffled curse, his fingers stilling but remaining deep inside his valve. It wasn't the first time Soundwave had witnessed him... servicing Megatron and it probably wouldn't be the last. It still irked him however.

"Why is he here?" he snapped. "If he's here to join then I'm definitely _out_."

Soundwave, as usual, ignored the other mech. Instead, he turned his attention to the seated Decepticon. "You summoned me, Lord Megatron."

Megatron cursed and slapped the back of Starscream's helm.

"No he's not here to join you stupid fool," he hissed, completely disregarding the telepath for the moment.

Even if the mech was there to join, Starscream would take it like he was told. Megatron's hand flashed forward and he grabbed Starscream's chin. His spike was throbbing, only a little work would get him to overload. Megatron gripped his own spike and sunk his fingers into Starscream's dermal plating, prying his mouth open. The Air Commander's optics flared with unpleasant surprise and he made a muffled cry at the abuse.

"Slut, I've got something for you," Megatron muttered, and began to pump his spike.

It only took a few moments and that all encompassing pleasure was on him again as he overloaded, his transfluid splashing on Starscream's pretty face. The sight was…nice, and a gurgle of laughter left him. With a gasp, Megatron's optics brightened, and he basked in the feel of afterglow, resituating himself on his chair.

"Yes…Soundwave…I have a mission for you. The outlines are in that datapad…right there," he said, unhelpfully pointing to the datapad that had slipped out of his hand a short while ago. His face was impassive, and he waited for any expression the telepath might've made at having to come so close to them. He knew the mech detested Starscream with a passion. But he always found it interesting when his subordinates fought each other.

Still kneeling at Megatron's feet, Starscream was sour-faced with humiliation. The quickly cooling transfluid was running down his cheeks, some of it dripping from his chin only to dribble down the smooth surface of his cockpit. The datapad in question was by Starscream's side, close to his folded leg but he made no move to pick it up. Soundwave merely crossed the room and over to the two mechs so he could pick up his latest mission dropped so haphazardly on the floor. He raised it up, high enough to quickly study the objectives given.

Starscream hated the fact that Soundwave still refused to pay any semblance of attention to him. Obviously, that accursed telepath not only possessed the personality of a glitched service drone, but he also possessed the libido of one as well. Other mechs would be unable to tear their optics away from him. His vents huffed with irritation. "As your_esteemed_ Air Commander-" He glanced up at Megatron, "- I insist that I lead this mission instead. Soundwave will obviously require my superior aerial support."

"My abilities: sufficient. Autobots: inferior." Soundwave made a point to tilt his helm down at the prostrated second-in-command. "Elite trine: not required."

Soundwave's answer did not send Starscream into a screeching fit, but it was clear that the Seeker not at all happy with it. He shifted on his kneecaps instead, wriggling his aft while he removed the fingers that had been buried inside his valve the entire time. He brought his hand up to his face and cleaned the thick coating of lubricant off, glossa darting between the index and middle fingers. Starscream's optics were directly focused on Soundwave's covered faceplates, challenging the other's blank stare with his own. He swiped his now clean hand across his still wet faceplates, gathering what was left of Megatron's transfluid and flicked it sideways in one deliberate, disgusted move. The droplets splattered onto Soundwave's shins instead.

"Oops. My apologies," he deadpanned, not sounding at all sorry.

Starscream grudgingly had to give Soundwave some credit; he didn't even flinch, even as the opaque fluid began to congeal onto his dark plating. Soundwave, on the other hand, just lowered the datapad and addressed their superior.

"The mission shall be a success, Lord Megatron."

"We need this energon Soundwave. All the details are there," Megatron said, nodding his head toward the datapad the telepath had. The expression on his face was slightly cross at the actions of Starscream, but he made no comment about it. Being purposefully vague about the assignment would ensure Starscream didn't try anything foolish.

Standing, Megatron tucked his spike away and brushed his hand against Starscream's helm. It was the only gesture of thanks a Decepticon could hope to get. "Since you're so eager to get out there Starscream, you and your trine can do drill practice." With a smirk, he walked away from the chair, crossing his arms over his chassis. "You have the best stealth skills in the Decepticon army, Soundwave. See to it that you do not fail me." The leader took another few steps forward and a holo of earth appeared.

"Affirmative, Lord Megatron."

Megatron's optics flared and he turned his head to the side, gazing at the two behind him with one red orb. "You're both dismissed." His hands flickered over the console keypad in front of him. "Hopefully you're not too tired tonight Starscream, otherwise you're just going to have another spike in your mouth." With another sweep of his hand, the console shut off and he turned out of the room, heading back for his own berthroom.

"Surely you are not going to just leave me like this!" Starscream snarled at Megatron's retreating back.

No answer.

The brief lapse of silence that followed was broken by the edgy tapping of fingers on a metallic thigh. There was a slow burn persisting in Starscream's circuits, the arousal still present deep inside the aching sensor nodes of his exposed valve. But Starscream was too incensed at Megatron's clear dismissal to find enough interest to get himself off.

"What did Megatron assign you to do exactly?" he finally spat out, turning a hateful optic up at Soundwave.

Soundwave continued to stand, scanning the datapad one last time before deleting the contents. He placed it carefully by the console, the air created by his movement tickling the sensitive planes of Starscream's wings.

"Energon retrieval," the other answered obscurely. It was _then_that he saw it fit to pay attention to the mess on his lower body; pulling out a cloth from subspace and efficiently wiping his legs clean. Starscream watched the action casually and noticed, though not for the first time, Soundwave's narrow hips, broad and powerful chestplate and the long, clean lines of his thighs. He would have been utterly convinced that Soundwave truly lacked an interface drive or anything resembling it, if he was not already aware of the fact that Megatron had interfaced with him before. But that was a long time ago apparently, before Earth.

"Core temperature high with the lack of overload," the communications officer unhelpfully observed, as he stopped and straightened his backstrut.

"Yes, yes, how very astute of you," Starscream huffed. He paused, the gleam in his optics sharpening. His mouth widened into a benign smile and he invitingly slid the palm of his hand up his canopy. "...though I don't suppose you'd want to help me with it." Inwardly, his pride shrivelled up a little at the offer he was making but the scientist in him was infinitely curious at what sort of lover Soundwave was.

Again, silence.

Starscream was unsure whether he was being stared at or whether Soundwave was admiring the monitors behind him. An incomprehensible sound then escaped Soundwave's vocaliser, though he couldn't tell if it signified amusement. Maybe it was just plain static.

"Well?" he snapped, impatient.

"No, Antivirus software has not been updated recently." With that, the infernal mech threw the stained cloth straight at a seething Starscream's lap and left the room.

Today's mission was very simple, very routine and best of all, it did not involve Megatron's rather...ambitious schemes. All Soundwave had to do was oversee the takeover of one of the local power plants and gather as many cubes as possible before the Autobots showed up. It really was nice when he was given missions that had neither Starscream nor the Stunticons. While assignments without Starscream were an understandable bliss, the Stunticons weren't as annoying as they were just plain _insane_. Fortunately, he had the Coneheads today. Perhaps more rowdy than he would have liked, a little dim-witted at times but much more malleable than the command trine. At least they didn't complain when he ordered them to do an aerial sweep.

And things were running very smoothly indeed. He _was_ in charge after all.

"Ramjet. Thrust. Dirge," he called out through his internal radio. "Report status."

"_No sign of Autobots._"

_"Nothing so far._"

"_Keh! I want some action, slaggit!_"

You'll see it soon enough, Soundwave thought grimly. Instead, he answered with a short, "Continue."

The mount on his shoulder was no longer empty. It really did pay not to throw away old prototypes that still worked... though it had a nasty tendency of conflicting with his targeting software. Either way, it was unconceivable that Soundwave would go around the _Nemesis_ unguarded like that. The excuse 'I misplaced it' was definitely not enough to keep Starscream's suspicious looks away.

Soundwave's mouth twisted with the memory. He focused his sight beyond the observation platform he was standing on, tall enough to view the row of power generators below.

Humans had pitiful defences. He had deliberately chosen one of the smaller establishments, one that was further off from state of Oregon and closer to the high rise mountains. There were immediate measures that he had taken, of course, to stop the humans from contacting the Autobots; their primary communications cable severed, Frenzy corrupting their emergency lines and his own jamming equipment running – though not on full power, just enough to kill off the humans' rudimentary wireless signals. A complete communications blackout would have any passing satellite red-flagging the area immediately.

A grating shout was heard. "Hurry it up, fleshbag! Don't have all solar-cycle here!"

And then there were the Battlechargers. Thuggish, immature but quite useful when utilised correctly.

A large yawning maw of a hole revealing the gray, rain soaked wilderness outside decorated infrastructure's main wall, courtesy of a well aimed bomb. In front of it was Astrotrain, patiently waiting in shuttle alt-mode. The human femme passing by Soundwave's raised platform, her body so small and fragile, struggled with the oversized cube in her arms. Behind her, more of her fellow workers heaved and groaned, accepting cubes from one of the twins and then moving along in an organised line as part of some organic conveyer belt. From there, the Battlecharger brothers took charge, snatching the cubes and piling them up and compressing them before depositing the manageable blocks into Astrotrain's hold. It was so much more efficient to use the humans like that, instead of wasting resources to guard them. To kill them would have been easier, but it also meant unnecessary mess...and it always fuelled the Autobots into fighting harder. He really did hate it when that righteous fury overtook them.

"C'mon fleshbags, get to it!" Rumble snapped as he meandered quickly around the humans. He hopped up onto the platform and approached Soundwave, stating, "We outta empty cubes, Boss."

"Understood. Cube formulation commencing," Soundwave acquiesced.

He lowered his arm where he had been holding his own weapon threateningly against his chest and at a minimal cost of his own fuel, began creating the needed containers. One of the humans stumbled, his dull optics...no, eyes wide with morbid curiosity at the sight but was quickly forced back into line with a startled cry when Laserbeak swooped down, claws deliberately missing the man's head by mere inches. Rumble sniggered, jeering at the frightened human to stop gawking.

The triplechanger's cargo bay was nearing half full...yes, progress was good. For now.

"What ya looking at? Get to it!"

It was unfortunate that this was what they were reduced to. Stealing energy from a fledgling race who remained defenceless once their thin layer of technology was stripped from them while, Cybertron, the true seat of their rightful territory remained so far away, plagued by unrest and stagnant politics. A far cry from the proud speeches that overwhelmed him and ensured his loyalty so long ago.

The female stumbled again but quickly pulled herself up, casting wary glances back at where Runamuck was. Then she looked up at Soundwave and when he deliberately allowed his visor to flash at her, she ducked her head and hurried along back to the waiting cubes. The lazy tendrils of his telepathy expanded out towards her, causing her to flinch without even realising why. Then he caught the thoughts of two males passing her, the glowing energy of the cubes painting their facial features into a horrid pink.

_I don't want to die._

_I'm scared._

_That tape deck robot is freaking me out._

Human thought processes had always been too jumbled and too erratic for his liking. The electronic impulses of their brain centres transmitted were too weak for him to focus on anything specific and it always gave him a cpu-ache just trying.

_I don't want to die!_

_Where are the Autobots? Why aren't they here?_

_Why won't he stop staring?_

_Please God, I don't want to fucking die!_

Soundwave tuned out their insipid thoughts and with a crunch of broken glass, stepped off the platform, not caring if he startled the humans when he floated down onto the ground level. The creeping realisation that Megatron had already lost the point of this war had never reacted so strongly with him until now.

"Are those slaggin' Autobots here yet?" Runabout whined as he stamped his pede.

The dark grey mech kept fidgeting and twitching with impatience. He was bored, Soundwave noted, that underpowered processor of his not being able to comprehend anything beyond the brutish need to destroy. Runamuck's optics narrowed and when a human approached with more cubes, he lurched forward and revved his engine loud and menacingly. The man yelped and fell onto his backside, cubes tumbling from his arms.

"Oh lookie, you frightened it," Runabout chortled.

"Battlechargers: unproductive activities not encouraged," Soundwave reprimanded.

Two sets of red optics shifted from the whimpering human on the floor and onto him, glowering hatefully. Undaunted, Soundwave stared back until the two idiots remembered that he was in charge and not them. They sulkily went back to compressing and loading. That continued for a short while until their radio buzzed with Ramjet's excited words.

"_Autobots spotted and heading your way fast!"_

"_Finally! Thought I was gonna rust here!"_

Soundwave glanced back at Astrotrain. Three quarters full. A good load. While he was itching for a fight himself, he knew that it was imperative that Megatron received that energon first.

"Optimus Prime: present in Autobot convoy?" he enquired, ignoring the surge of anticipation in his circuits.

"_Dunno, they're in that shuttle of theirs."_

He wasn't oblivious to Rumble's sideways gaze or the downward twist of Frenzy's mouth, barely discernible from the distance. Even Laserbeak's optics flared ever so slightly and Soundwave wasn't sure what to make of that.

"Astrotrain," he ordered. "Immediate destination: Nemesis. Seeker trine: will accompany and provide full air support."

It was always Ramjet who objected the most. _"What? And miss out beating the Autobots into scrap? Astrotrain can take care of himself!"_

But Astrotrain was not keen on flying back on his own, particularly when his hold was filled with stacks of volatile energon that could easily explode with one laser shot._"Megatron's going to be pissy if we don't get that energon back to him and who do you think he's going to blame huh?"_

"_Ain't gonna be me!"_ Thrust retorted.

"_He's gonna blame all of us, ya spikeheaded twit!"_Rumble's voice cut into the channel scathingly._"Or did ya forget the last time he beat ya into slag? Hah! Thought he mistook yer ugly, fat aft for Starscream!"_

"_Rumble, you pintsized glitch, I'm gonna fuc-"_

Soundwave was not in the mood to listen to them. Not when there were Autobots rushing towards them and especially if Optimus Prime was leading them.

"Silence! Seeker trine will provide full air support to Astrotrain. Recommended route: south-westerly over main mountain," Soundwave insisted, the cold steel in his words evident through his monotone. "Radar interference: will be temporarily provided. Duration: two breems. Use it wisely."

"_But-"_

"All objections: overruled!"

Bracing himself by sliding his legs apart, Soundwave redirected most of his power to his internal transmitters. It wasn't difficult to see why Soundwave was considered to be a formidable communications officer; all frequencies, human and Cybertronian, immediately filled with static as the power plant and the area surrounding it was transformed into one massive communications blind spot. Not one to waste an opportunity, Astrotrain's powerful engines roared into life, his heavy chassis bouncing once on its undercarriage before he effortlessly propelled himself forward into the sky. The humans were lucky that they were huddled in a corner away from the triplechanger for surely they would have been scorched from the jet backwash.

Both Runamuck and Runabout bristled with bloodthirsty expectation, their energy fields rolling from their frame clearly indicating their eagerness for battle. But Soundwave knew that despite his troops' willingness, the Autobots most likely would sorely outnumber them. All he had to do was distract them long enough for Astrotrain's sake. Hopefully the jamming was sufficient to keep the Autobots from following the shuttle.

His symbiotes signalled their readiness by pinging him and Soundwave levelled a glare at the humans. He pointed dispassionately at the jagged hole to his left.

"Run to your Autobot saviours," he said.

It was amazing how that one word 'Autobot' was enough to widen their eyes and fill their faces with optimism. They wasted no time, rushing as fast as their little legs could push them. One tripped in his haste and his colleagues were too busy making their escape to even stop to help. Soundwave twisted his torso towards the entrance as the last human hostage scrambled over the debris littering around him and raised his concussion blaster, his finger tightening on the trigger. It was not as if Soundwave wished to spare their lives, he basically wanted them to serve as a suitable sidetrack. At least until he could no longer keep up the jamming. With any luck, one of them would get accidently squished by a wayward Autobot pede.

The rainy season. Spring, as the earth people called it.

Optimus could hear the rain drumming against Skyfire's plating as they rocketed through the sky. There was stark red LED lighting in the cabin, and Optimus was forced to scrunch himself up as much as he could in order to fit. With a group of other mechs it was a hard squeeze.

His gaze shifted to Jazz. His third was in the midst of a punch line for a joke, something about one of Megatron's more...simple minded plans, and the old reminiscing brought a smile to his face, hidden by his mask of course.

"-I'm sure that was after Starscream's wing was on fire because of the energon cubes," Optimus chimed in, and Sideswipe snorted into his hand.

Jazz's smiling face turned in his direction as he joined in the laughter. "That's right, an' then he was dancin' around on th' platform like those femmes back in that one bar on Cybertron. Who knew Starscream had it in 'im," he chuckled, and Sideswipe slapped him on the back as he broke into another fit of laughter.

Skyfire's prude, disembodied voice broke into the cockpit. "In his defence, wings are very sensitive, along with the wingtips. It's crippling."

Sideswipe laughed again. "I'll remember that when I'm," he made a suggestive motion with his hips from where he was, "bumping 'em out with Air Raid." He drew a hand down his chassis and along over his white thighs. Optimus felt his spike stir with interest, but he kept himself from shifting to draw notice.

Prowl rapped the toughline on his helm with a crisp hand. A shame, Prime thought. Sideswipe was attractive, along with his twin brother. What he wouldn't do to have had both of them at the same time.

"Please, let's concentrate on the task at hand. I seem to recall worse instances happening to both of you," Prowl said, ruining the good mood completely. Jazz tucked his chassis back as he leaned against Skyfire's cabin wall. Sideswipe sighed and did the same.

"So, recap. Optimus?" Prowl said softly, scrolling over the datapad in his hand for a final check over before he stowed it in his subspace, looking expectantly at Optimus.

"Ah, yes. This should be a fairly standard mission. The emergency services in the area were contacted via phone, and it seems that the Decepticons are draining energy from the local hydroelectric dam. Should be an easy enough mission, Sky Spy intel suggests low Decepticon support and activity."

Sideswipe groaned and twisted irritably from in between the bulk of Prowl and Jazz. "What you mean to say is that it's going to be boring," he complained.

Skyfire cut in again. "Helping humans is never boring. We're guests on this planet, we need to do our part," he said tetchily.

Optimus nodded in agreement. "Yes, they let us stay here and give us energy to make energon. Without it..." Well, it was needless to say anything more on the subject. Without it, they'd probably all be back in stasis, or dead. "And not only that, they're helping us with the warp gate. Without their help, we might never be able to return home."

Sideswipe sighed and shrugged his shoulder, but not after he took the time to elbow Jazz in his side. The saboteur grunted and shifted over on his aft to let Sideswipe scoot away from Prowl.

Skyfire shifted to the side and everyone braced against the turbulence. Optimus continued.

"It's a small dam they're scavenging from. I'm not too concerned with how much energon they steal," he admitted, his optics darkening while his jaw tensed under his mask. "I'm more concerned about the humans. The more casualties, no matter how impossible, will look bad on us...For the time being, we want to stay here as long as we can..."

A comfortable silence settled over the cabin. Guns were primed and checked over, and Jazz started humming a quiet tune. "Jazz, once we get out, you're going to scout ahead, should be-"

A startling burst of static sounded over each of their communicators. Optimus jerked and clutched his head and turned the volume down on his, the ringing scattering his audio relays.

"Fucking hell," Sideswipe cursed, rubbing his audio horn with his fingers. Prowl's unpleasant grimace affirmed Optimus's suspicions.

"Soundwave's communication blocks," Prowl said, wiping the mechblood off of his lip from where he had accidentally bit it. "Should've known better than that," he muttered.

"Thirty klicks as the seeker flies," Skyfire cut in. A second later everyone was thrown against the right side of the cabin as the large Autobot banked hard to the right. The gravity on earth was far higher than that of Cybertron, and Optimus grunted as his frame was jarred unpleasantly along the wall. He reached up and fingered along the smokestack on his shoulder, finding a bit of it was bent.

"Decepticons," Skyfire said, "Ramjet, Thrust, and Dirge..with Astrotrain retreating. More than anticipated. Including Soundwave, with his cassettes, and whatever other ground support he has. You're sure Sky Spy was accurate?"

"Yes," Prowl snapped. "Ground support is limited to symbiotes, a lone telepath, and at the most, three other mechs. Considering the elite trine is nowhere to be seen, my logic computes perfectly."

Sideswipe's helm thumped against the thick metal wall behind him. "Is that your fuckin' fancy way of saying you knew we were going to be outnumbered?"

"Sideswipe!" Optimus barked.

"And you can spend a day in the brig after this for insubordination," Prowl replied. Optimus's cross face, even though hidden under his mask, smoothened out. It was always like this when any of them paired up into smaller groups. Not to mention having Jazz and Prowl in the same area and not arguing was probably miraculous. The two disagreed sharply...almost all of the time.

"Landing," Skyfire said, "You're going to have to be quick. I will engage the enemy in aerial combat and give as much ground support as I can."

"Alright, my friend," Optimus nodded, scooting forward towards the drop hatch. He was almost always the first to enter battle. That feeling developed in his processor and he knew Skyfire was descending. Soon as the hatch opened, foggy mist rolled in, and Optimus quickly trotted out of the hatch, the rest of his team on his heels.

They moved far enough away and watched as Skyfire jetted off again. The mist cleared some and instead cold rain hammered down on their plating. Jazz shook his frame, shuddering. "Nice day," he muttered.

They all congregated around Optimus as he lit a hologram in his hand of the area. He zoomed in on the facility itself. "Be careful, there should be anywhere of five to ten humans. We aren't going to be able to see, so make sure you _look before_ you shoot. The symbiotes may be able to cause problems, but nothing too serious. They'll have just as a hard time with vision as us, especially because they're lower and closer to the ground, but watch for the fliers. Prowl, you go up here to the left with Sideswipe, Jazz along the right, and I'm going straight."

Steam puffed out of Prime's chassis as he shifted backwards. "Any questions?"

"Nope, got it Prime," Jazz murmured. Prowl nodded, hoisting up his acid pellet rifle. Sideswipe had his own blaster, but his expression wasn't as grim as the high ranking officers. He smiled maliciously.

"Make sure you take care of Prowl, Sideswipe," Optimus added.

The tactician snorted and turned away, his doorwings flaring attractively. He motioned sharply with his hands for Sideswipe to flank his left. "No, _you_take care of _yourself_, Prime."

Jazz waved at the rest of them and disappeared into the mist. Not that Prowl would've cared if he'd seen it, nor would he have reciprocated. Optimus shook his head and oftentimes wondered how much Prowl and Jazz did actually know. His spark seemed to clench in on itself at the thought. Was he compromising himself? Yes.

But, there was a mission at hand, and Optimus started forward up the twisting path that the hydroelectric dam workers must've used as a driveway. Oddly, it wasn't paved, as most of the human earth roads where. Instead, red coloured dirt trickled down from the road from the torrent of rain. The embankment was upwards, probably where the crux of the river was too.

Quickly he started up the slope, treading on the grass where it was easier to walk. Each step he took was quite audible, making the trees around him shake. The trees would've been able to provide him with some cover, and if he laid on his front, he'd be able to get more protection from the steep embankment. Just as long as no one snuck up on him from behind.

The closer he came, the more he could make out dim voices. Humans, screaming humans. A chill developed over him that wasn't because of the cold rain. He'd always been compassionate, or so he wished, and their screams had always been particularly piercing. Especially the females. He could see them rushing madly down the way, splattered with mud and drenched completely. There'd be no hope of extraction without any working communications systems.

The woman at the front of the small group screamed when she noticed Optimus's figure looming in the fog. Quickly Prime stooped down, raising his hands a bit while his knee settled uncomfortably in the mud. "This is all of you?" he said.

The woman looked frightfully behind her while she shook terribly, her face red and eyes swollen. "Yes," she said, "Six of us." She wiped her nose on her sleeve, blood staining the dirty white arm of her jacket. "Thank God you've come," a man said, his spectacles half on his face, huddled close to another.

"Yes. Down this road, about a thousand meters, is a clearing. Go to the edge of it and stay there. The Autobots will take care of the rest of the Decepticons." With no preamble, Prime stood to his full height and stepped around the group, but looked over his shoulder to make sure the group was doing as he'd said. Once they disappeared into the mist, he was confident they'd find their way around. They knew the place better than him after all.

The telltale noise of battle suddenly greeted his audios. But from up in the sky. Skyfire must've been engaging the coneheads. Optimus stepped up the hill until he saw the grass below his pedes was nicely trimmed. Must've been at the edges of the ground. The mist around the complex cleared more, and he could see a few crushed vehicles. The Decepticons must've destroyed them. It was then, his optics seemed to zero in on the giant hole in the complex, not too far ahead. He saw Soundwave's vague outline and he raised his gun to shoot and dove to the side right after. The sharp 'thump thump' of Prowl's acid pellet gun was easy to recognize, along with the shriller sound of a standard issue Autobot blaster from the left, off from in the trees.

In the murkiness of their surroundings, Soundwave jumped out of the hole and the air seemed to part around his body as two more Cassettes unfolded from the open panel of his chest. Ravage landed effortlessly on his four pedes and bounded away to assist the others while Buzzsaw set loose a volley of laser blasts up at Optimus' general direction as he flew past them to join Laserbeak.

Time seemed to stop for a split second when Soundwave's gaze focused directly onto his Autobot _lover_. "Optimus..." he breathed, words barely audible behind the mouthplate.

Loose gravel and rock tumbled down the slope as Soundwave's pedes dug into the wet ground. He veered sharply to one side, zig zagging up the slope to avoid the shots aimed at him. Up at the distance, Runabout's particle beam rifle was heard and several trees toppling but he didn't care much about that. The communications blackout he was producing was not going to last much longer and his main concern was Astrotrain getting to his destination...and subsequently, his all too important cargo.

Soundwave reached his target – one of the human's cars. He raised his leg, bent it at the knee joint and twisted on one pede to aim a kick at the already damaged vehicle. There was an almighty _clank_ when the car tipped over on its side, and then an almost unbearable screeching noise as it skidded across the cracked tarmac. Taking advantage on the momentum he had already gathered, he landed another hard kick to it, sending it bouncing violently down the steep slope, down to Optimus and to its doom.

With no physical barriers which Optimus preferred, he cursed as the vehicle built momentum towards him. He couldn't see Soundwave's form, just the very top of his head, and he had a split second decision to make. There'd be no way he could roll to the side fast enough, with his form as big as it was, he'd have to roll twice, and it wasn't that easy for him to do. He was a big mech.

Digging his pedes into the ground, Optimus rose and shielded his body with his strong arms, and he grunted as the car impacted with him. It had a nice amount of force behind it, but Optimus had more, and he shoved it off of his body to let it crash the rest of the way down the hill. His armour was barely dented, and he raised his rifle to shoot up the hill.

Jazz, on the other hand, was much closer to Soundwave than Optimus. The saboteur had wedged himself around the side of a building, his paint helping him blend with the dark, rain gray outside. He peeked around the corner and could only see the mech's shoulder, and the edge of his chassis. The building was rather tall, so there'd be no way he could climb up to get a headshot. Going around the complete corner of the building was out of the question too. Jazz stepped away from his cover, and when the back part of Soundwave's shoulder came into view, he shot. He stayed place as he heard the ring of it connecting, then stepped back and nearly slipped down the embankment. He fell on his front and cursed sharply, propelling himself back sharply into the trees.

The telepath hissed sharply though his vents at the sudden sting assaulting his shoulder from that accursed Autobot's shot. The suddenness of it had him drop the jamming and his internals protested when they finally registered the energy drain. But he was a tough mech, always has been and always would be. The damage to his plating was, to him, unimportant. He tore after Jazz with all the intent of blasting him into stasis. Simultaneously, the radio channels around him began to buzz with activity.

"_Seeker trine. Astrotrain,"_ he called. _"Report status."_

"_Screamer's ole' boyfriend's after us,"_ Ramjet said, the sneer in his voice evident through the encrypted Decepticon frequency.

"_Astrotrain?"_

"_Makin' good progress."_

Soundwave was thankful that the trees grew sparse enough to allow him to weave through without any trouble.

"_Aerialbots?"_

"_Dun see them."_

"_Primary Objective: Energon cargo."_

"_Yeah, yeah,"_ Astrotrain grouched suddenly over the channel. _"I love ya too Soundwave."_

Well that was good. Skyfire was, at spark, a pacifist. A fully-fledged Seeker Trine should have no problem handling him and protecting Astrotrain at the same time. He did not have the luxury to hide; the broad bulk of his torso too wide for the thinner trunks. Instead he fell behind a particularly thick undergrowth and a natural groove curved into the earth, his dark colouring helping him blend. For now, his visor dimmed as he concentrated; taking into account the distant noises of the skirmish taking place further away, the rain dripping from the foliage above and onto his plating and the signature of the hidden mech he was after.

_You can't hide from me Autobot..._

The high-pitched whine Soundwave's blaster made was barely heard and he slowly hunched forward, movements steady and deliberate like that of a cybercat's. When the weapon was fully charged, Soundwave pressed the trigger and aimed where he predicted the Autobot's position was. The resulting shockwave blast rattled the weaker branches, making them wave wildly.

"_Calling for an aerial attack!"_ Jazz's voice suddenly burst through the officers' comm. Optimus looked up to the sky, watching Skyfire turn away from the squad that was rapidly disappearing into the distance.

"_Live rounds!"_ the shuttle called out, and Optimus could hear the sound of his weapons firing before the bullets impacted with the earth. The concrete parking lot exploded, and Optimus ducked down to shield himself. Dirt sprayed down everywhere, and he heard some of the trees shatter in the woods nearby, cracking and breaking apart loudly. Optimus took advantage of the situation and ran to the top. He could barely see Rumble through the smoke, but Prime shot twice at him. After a moment, he ran to the building's side where he could get some cover, and nearly tripped over a piece of the parking lot that was up heaved from Skyfire's shot.

Jazz avoided Soundwave the best that he could, which was easier for him and his small form. His pedes were burned from where Soundwave's blast had scored his armour. He kept shooting randomly over his shoulder in hopes to keep Soundwave occupied. Were the Decepticons actually trying to defend the place?

Soundwave grunted as a stray bullet caught him in the flank, embedding itself deeply between a coolant tank and a secondary pump. Mechblood spurted out from a ruptured line and Soundwave automatically slapped a hand over the ripped plating. They needed to get out of there fast.

The Decepticon channel was filled with foul cursing, both in their native language and in English. Somewhere in between, Soundwave thought he heard a rude sounding German word that sounded like a clogged up filter belonging to a waste disposal unit.

"_Frag that jet to the pit and back!"_

"_Prime got me!"_Rumble moaned.

"_Astrotrain: report status,"_ Soundwave commanded, tone coldly detached and professional as always despite the life fluids seeping in from between his fingers.

"_In the clear. Approaching Nemesis."_

"_About fuckin' time!"_ Frenzy snarled. _"What the hell took you so long? Did ya stop off for a booty call at the Smithsonian? We've been eatin' slag here!"_

"_Shut up, pipsqueak!"_

The telepath's intakes heaved in a mixture of relief and pain. _"Mission accomplished. Decepticons: withdraw."_

Mud splattered wetly across his frame and Soundwave found himself running up towards the main complex again, energon thrumming hotly through his tubes. His Cassettes met him half way; Ravage and the injured Rumble transforming in mid air to fit back into his chest cavity whilst Frenzy launched his rockets blindly up at Skyfire and the other two avian symbiotes kept the other Autobots busy. Warning windows blared in front of his vision but his anti-gravs weren't affected, switching on in perfect timing. Rivulets streamed down his body, fuchsia liquid from the wound mixing in with the rainwater. The agony was staunchly ignored, pushed deep into his mind.

He wasn't too concerned about the Battlechargers. They could make their own escape. For now, his chassis twisted in the air, lending him one last view of the Autobots on the ground and the devastation they left behind. He was successful. That was all that mattered and he could not help but send Optimus Prime a soft but triumphant mental chuckle.


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter four

* * *

The sun, for being such an early human month in the year, was surprisingly hot against Prime's paint. It tingled and made him itch, but in his alternative form there wasn't much he could do about it. Though staying in between the lines on the pavement usually helped. But the heat of the asphalt was another thing he found he disliked about Earth. The rubber on his tires was hot, uncomfortable. That combined with his dour attitude made him feel stressed, but he didn't show it in front of the small group of soldiers behind him.

He only allowed his engine to shift into an easier gear, taking more strain off of his internals, even if he did go a bit slower. Ratchet was right behind him, then Bumblebee and Jazz. The rest of the Autobots were still on base, doing their various duties while Prowl was in command. A meeting with the humans had gone well, no matter how much Optimus quietly insisted that _no_, they would _not_ share their weapon technology.

It was starting to grow tense between him and the UN, which could prove to be… troublesome. They wanted a means to defend themselves against the Decepticons. Optimus understood that, but if they were given weapons, they would use them for far worse means than just against the Decepticons. That he knew. Though, if the humans did receive weapons, it really would eliminate the need for the Autobots to be stationed on Earth, and Prime still had every intention of heading back to Cybertron to reclaim the lands that rightfully belonged to him. He felt vain to admit it, but he wished for the enormous expansive of the Royal Estate rather than his tiny one on the Ark.

"You're okay Prime?" Ratchet observed from behind him, noticing that the mech had been steadily decreasing his pace for the last ten miles.

"Yes," he replied nostalgically, voice in a far off place. For several miles he continued on in silence, pensively listening to Spike chattering to Bumblebee from the young mech's open window. Jazz chirruped a noise of inquiry from the back and Optimus made a lower noise back, assuring the saboteur that he was fine. More time passed, and then Optimus decided he couldn't take it anymore, and pulled over at a vacant rest stop, where he gracefully transformed, rising up to stand on his pedes.

The rest followed suit, except Bumblebee, but he could see Spike looking up at him inquisitively from inside the yellow Volkswagen's interior before the young man slowly stepped out so the mech could transform as well.

"I'm going to go off on my own for a little while," he said softly, motioning over his shoulder to the wooded area behind them.  
Jazz made an exasperated noise and opened his mouth for a flippant response of refusal, but Prime raised his hand to quiet him. He turned to Ratchet and they gazed long and hard at each other for a few moments, but when the larger mech's optics turned icy, the medic backed down.

"Alright Prime, take some time for yourself," he quietly spoke, but Jazz glanced at him as he keenly noted the hidden disappointment in the mech's voice.

"Optimus," Bumblebee started, "You'll be leaving yourself open to the Decepticons! You should at least take one of us with you," he reasonably asked, raising one hand up in the air to gesture at each of them in turn.

The large mech reached a hand out to clasp the smaller mech on the shoulder. Underneath his mask he smiled, and his blue optics visibly twinkled. "Don't worry Bumblebee, I'll be fine. I'll make sure to keep my tracking system on," he gently teased. "I'll be back a little past dark, I'll bet," he added, swatting his hand upon a golden shoulder in a brotherly way.

"But Prime-" Spike said, and Optimus's attention was drawn back to the ground. "That's really dangerous! I mean like, you could get killed! Who knows where the Decepticons are hiding. I'm sure they're listening to this conversation!" he said, and took the opportunity to look around nervously.

"Now now, this is _Prime_ we're talking about," Ratchet interjected, and gave Jazz a pointed look to keep him quiet.

The saboteur transformed and Ratchet followed suit, Bumblebee last. Spike begrudgingly entered the driver's seat, and Ratchet made a final farewell before he took off, the other two following slowly behind him. Once out of sight Prime turned and started along a path, keeping his scanners out and open to make sure there really _were_no Decepticons. Dark green pines brushed his shoulders and legs as he walked along, knowing that he was scaring more than a little bit of wildlife with his heavy footsteps. Thankfully, in Oregon, there were a lot of wooded places with no humans around for miles. For awhile he walked, quiet in his own respect, and looked up from his careful concentration of where he was putting his pedes when he saw light reflecting off water.

It was lovely, he would admit that, and once he found a relatively firm spot along the bank, he sat down, hunching his massive shoulders as he started to think.

Behind the Autobot leader, further within the forest where the trees grew thick and tall with branches reaching the sky, stood Soundwave. He had been tailing the enemy the entire time, right from the start of that idiotic conference. This time however, Megatron _had_ actually ordered the mission. It was not a hard task to stay hidden; his compact alt-mode looked innocent enough amongst the humans and his heightened sensors could pick up everything around him. All he had to do was watch out for that pesky third-in-command of theirs, Jazz. Oh, how that mech annoyed him.

_"Mission: follow the others. Do not engage,"_ he told Ravage via their internal communications systems, lest the wind carried his voice over to the river where Optimus sat.

The quad pedal mech drew a long line in the dirt with his paw, indicating his reluctance to leave his Master. Soundwave inwardly sighed and pushed his back up the tree trunk he was leaning against, feeling the coarse back scrape lightly at his plating.

_"Obey, Ravage. Do not disappoint me."_

Ravage's optics brightened with defiance, still refusing to move. It was admirable how his most loyal Cassette would do anything to ensure his safety, even if it meant disobeying his direct orders. Regardless, Soundwave was more than capable of taking care of himself. And he illustrated his point by mentally stabbing his symbiote's cpu with a light, electronic jolt. It was obvious who won. Ravage bowed his helm meekly with a small pained whimper, the previous bright optics dimming.

_"Remember who is your superior,"_ Soundwave said sternly. "_Next time I will not be so forgiving on you. Now go. Stay unseen."_

Ravage gave him one last look before taking off, leaping over the falling branches with unnatural grace and Soundwave watched him until he could no longer visually detect the black form. Soundwave then passed a hand over his chassis, up to rub his tense neck cables.  
Soundwave left the spot he had been resting at and began to walk towards the river. He could see Optimus now, sitting at the bank and it appeared as if the Autobot was deep in contemplation.

As a spy, Soundwave was naturally stealthy, the installed anti-gravs automatically compensating for his weight and making his steps virtually soundless against the ground. To avoid startling the other mech with his sudden presence, he send out an airy mental caress against Optimus' processor when he was near enough, much like the soft touch of invisible hands. He didn't want those honed warrior instincts to suddenly react and shoot him on sight after all.

"Suggestion: you should have listened to your little Bumblebee and his human pet. There really are –" A small, indiscernible staticky sound and Soundwave's synthesised monotone abruptly switched over to his normal, smooth tenor when the mask split into two and retracted. "–big, bad Decepticons hiding around."

There was a reason Optimus had always asked Soundwave to stay out completely out of his mind. The mental caresses he was so fond of doing – whether out of habit or not, were enough to drive Optimus over the edge quickly. It infuriated him at how easily Soundwave could take control of him, make him do things, and the Matrix didn't like it either.

The gyros in his shoulders strained with a soft whine as he leaned forward, then gathered himself and stood up, coolly regarding the other mech. With his train of thought broken, he brought a hand to rub gently on the bottom of his mask. He might have been a little bit worried if Soundwave hadn't turned his secondary vocaliser off and parted his mask, which he knew the mech only did for these meetings of theirs. A wry chuckle left him.

"There are also big bad Autobots wandering around, looking for Decepticons to prey on."

He didn't trust Soundwave in the least. The mech was an opportunist. Would he take the chance to shoot him in the back? Probably. Icy blue coloured optics gazed dully over the river, watching light flicker across the small ripples of water in the setting sun. One thing he could admit about Earth was the myriad of colours – something that didn't exist on Cybertron.

"Ratchet wasn't impressed to see your blaster on the floor of my room," he spoke, only letting a tinge of dark vehemence etch his tone. If Soundwave couldn't tell it made him angry, then he would be very surprised. "He begged me to stop." The lips underneath that mask twitched down.

"I don't know whether to agree or not."

Soundwave tilted his helm sharply at that. _Begged_. What an interesting choice of words. Soundwave often wondered which Autobots knew of their noble leader's hidden side. He tried many times to surreptitiously look into their minds regarding that particular matter but it was all praises and awe. He hadn't had a chance with Optimus' main officers. Especially Ratchet; those Autobots guarded their medic religiously, very much like an overzealous security-bot.

But Soundwave made no effort to excuse himself. He said nothing, just a quick dip of his chin indicating his apology.

Because in all honesty, mistakes like that were below a mech of his calibre. It should not have happened in the first place. Ratchet finding it there...was most unfortunate. Soundwave had left his weapon close to the berth and only a keen optic would have spotted it...so what _was_Ratchet doing in Optimus' private quarters anyway?

Optimus looked back upon the Decepticon before him. Prime's optics didn't hold any indifference like usual, or a rare moment of fondness. They were the optics of an enemy. "Go," he spoke, casting a hand up to point away.

Soundwave stood very still. The unwavering light in Optimus' optics was unmistakable and he knew what that meant. He still had yet to move, just standing there, frozen, before the other mech. Numbness spread through him, from the tips of his fingers, right along his wires and into his gears and straight into his processor. The corners of Soundwave's slack mouth turned down at the corners.

"No," he said simply.

Optimus didn't know whether to back down or not. While normally comfortable with any situation with an enemy, this one seemed foreign and too personal. Blaster should have been there with him. Obviously the situation needed to be quelled before it escalated.

Prime turned his stance away. "I don't know why you return to me time after time. What do you want from me? My spark?" A low chuckle escaped from his vocaliser. "I already have an appointed bondmate."

The river at their pedes reflected their faces and upper bodies, the image distorted by the moving water, their outlines smudged off to one side. Soundwave spoke directly at their mirrored selves, watching himself tilt his helm to one side and his lips stretch with each word.

"The femme: she is your chosen yes, but you are not bonded to her. And that is what she is. A chosen. By the Council. Are you satisfied with that? Are you willing to have your actions dictated by a group of selfish, over-indulgent mechs for the rest of your existence?"

"I've had my actions chosen for me since I was reformatted into Optimus Prime. I've never wanted a mate anyways," Optimus said. "You should defect," he voiced after some thought, and wondered how many other times he had said that. "I don't understand why you don't."  
Soundwave took a step forward and he smiled almost serenely at the other mech. And as he did, Optimus was almost compelled to take a step back. Instead, he shifted his weight and held his ground.

"Tell me, Optimus Prime, why should I defect for a cause I do not believe in? The outcome is predictable. I will not be trusted and I will be locked up because of my abilities and place of my creation. " The smile dropped, as if wiped clean from his faceplates. The visor across his optics brightened, the red sharpening in a full glare and his voice hardened. "No. I refuse to play second fiddle. You know that very well. You will have to give me a very good reason in order to defect. But we both know that you never will."

Optimus finally took a step backwards. "It would take time but they would accept you. I wouldn't let them lock you up. I _am_ the Autobots and I have other obligations. You knew this. I don't know why you're so... _attached_."

It wasn't as if Optimus has condoned the attachment in any way, in fact he'd done his best to make Soundwave deviate away from him, but the harder he tried the more the mech seemed to be infatuated in some way with him, and the more he had continued. Soundwave's visor dimmed in consideration. Optimus was right – he had never attempted to soften their relationship with empty promises and false affections. Soundwave would have lost interest a long time ago if that was the case. Decepticon protocol dictated that one's chosen lover had to be one who possessed qualities that were approved of; power, strength, authority, passion. The same sort that had first reeled Soundwave in towards Megatron. The same sort that had him longing for the Autobot leader instead, knowing that beneath the circuitry and wires lay a dark creature that he was hopelessly attracted to.

He allowed his arm to stretch out, fingertips lightly touching Optimus's shoulder, down and down the warm metal to trace an inside seam. The Autobot was uncomfortable, that much was obvious. It made him smug, the emotion slowly creeping into his otherwise calm and almost uninterested voice. "And if the Council does lock me up somewhere and weld the door shut...would you go against them to ensure my release? How noble." It took another two steps for Soundwave to invade the other's personal space, deliberately tilting his frame so he could press himself against Optimus' hips. "Question: do I not please you in ways your Autobots cannot?"

Optimus's optics flashed and he brought his hands to rest on Soundwave's hips, but managed to keep his fingers from pressing into the metal. "The Council trusts my opinion," he managed to get out, but he knew that he was arguing with a mech that wouldn't listen. Would he be put in a cell if Optimus brought him back to headquarters? Probably. The others would count Optimus as a traitor and would revoke his position of Prime. That would mean removing the Matrix, and that was the ultimate sacrifice.

Underneath his mask a pained expression was on his face. Optimus could only imagine the agony that would be, and he really had no desire to go through it. The last time he had attempted it… the thought made a shiver slip coolly down his backstrut.

"You please me," he strained to get out, jaw working tightly under his mask, as he studiously avoided grinding his denta against one another. "The last mech who… pleased me is still on Cybertron."

Soundwave allowed himself a tiny smile at Optimus' words and the feel of those powerful hands on his hips, the top corner of his lip components pulling upwards ever so slightly. Yes, he was very happy to hear that. It temporarily curbed that ugly streak of his that always seemed to rear up whenever the Autobot leader was involved.

"Verdict: Satisfied."

And to show it, he tilted his helm back and extended his glossa to swipe a long, wet line up Optimus' throat. It was a gesture designed to entice and he knew that he was good at it. Hot air wafted in gentle, shallow puffs from his vents, signifying how fast his chassis was heating up. He really didn't need to say anything more – it was obvious what he wanted. But he waited, hoping that Optimus would not end what they have. The planned route, if that ever happened, was unfavourable and desperate.

The Decepticon nuzzled his faceplates against the battle mask, lips mouthing at the metal directly over Optimus' covered mouth. He stared into the brilliant blue gaze, the optical band over his own optics now a dark, lazy red. And his hands were not idle, oh no...his arms were snaking around the other mech's waist to bring him closer against him, his fingers tapping around the back plating, expertly sliding down to Optimus' aft.

Optimus stood stiffly, and he fought with himself whether or not to return the affections. After a few moments he did give in, and he brought one hand to Soundwave's front, brushing across the buttons that rested on his pelvis, pushing a couple of them. Soundwave had a certain charm about him, something so real and tangible that he couldn't deny it, and soon Optimus found himself melding into the affections and returning them just as quickly.

Soundwave arched the struts of his back, pushing his front insistently against the roaming hands. Prime traced his fingers around the golden opening for the tapedeck in Soundwave's front, and was nearly compelled to ask the question of how Soundwave showed his spark. If Optimus pressed his palms flat on his chest, he would surely feel the quickening pulses of Soundwave's spark, already swelling with anticipation.

How he loved the feel of those hands on him, especially when Optimus took the time to slowly explore his chassis. When they passed over the buttons of his alt-mode, his vents had hitched loudly. They weren't sensitive at all, but Optimus' touch only seemed make him all that more responsive. Soundwave's arm uncurled from the Autobot's flanks, moving up to fiddle lightly on a windshield wiper, rubbing the thin piece of metal between his fingers.

"Optimus," Soundwave called, skinning his top lip component over his denta as his contented purr sharpened into a soft, possessive growl. He singled out one of the main cords of the Prime's neck with his glossa and nipped at it before soothing the bite with gentle licks and suckles. "Surroundings: Empty. Jamming equipment: on. Why are you hesitating?"

"I don't know," Optimus admitted, dark blue optics gazing into the dark wooded forest, or across the banks of the river that, to humans, moderately tall tan colored grass swayed gently. It was the perfect picture of peace and semblance. His neck stung where Soundwave had bit him. "Seems too open."

"Apprehension: noted," Soundwave said, pressing his frame closer. "I will search the area again."

It was also to ease his own worries, alongside with Optimus'. It wasn't necessary for him to visually confirm that there was no one around; his modified scanning system was more than adequate, able to locate targets - organic and mechanised - with pinpoint precision. The only ones with just enough ability to perhaps strike lucky and evade him was that thrice-damned Autobot Blaster... and his own Cassetticons, though he knew that their loyalty was practically set in stone.

As he did so, large hands slid back to rest on his aft, where Optimus traced the seams and junctures of his hip, slipping his digits in to stroke at the muscle cable, but his fingers were too large to go far. The Autobot flattened the palm of his hand and brought it down sharply on Soundwave's aft, and was more that satisfied to hear the metallic ring.

"Search results: local – ah!" Soundwave's hips jerked at the unexpected sting, the slap jostling his wires against already sensitised sensors. "Local wildlife."

Optimus merely nodded, his other hand rose to his face and he touched the bottom seams of his battle mask, and after another squeeze on Soundwave's pert aft, he decided to remove it. Features revealed, he slipped the piece into his subspace, lips twitching as they were exposed to the cooling air. Since he wore his facemask nearly all of the time, he really wasn't used to making expressions, even though sometimes he did, which he noted were mostly around the mech he was in company with now.

Soon, the Autobot broke away with a pleased sigh and sat down upon the soft dirt ground, his blue optics looking pinched and narrowed. Soundwave wasn't the only thing he had to worry about.

With a soft whirring of gears, Soundwave dropped onto his knees, between Optimus' parted legs and placed his hands flat by the other's sides, rocks rolling away as his palms grinded into the ground. His arms supported most of his weight, back bowed and aft pushed out appealingly.

Soundwave then hunched closer and stopped, seemingly uncertain of himself for a moment as he admired his lover's exposed faceplates. The tip of his glossa ran delicately across the mouth in front of him, giving it a couple of chaste kisses before snagging Optimus' top lip between his denta and sucking it straight into his mouth. He released it with a wet _smack_ and dragged his hands backwards, now leaving long grooves in the dirt so he could lean back and stretch.

Soundwave's oral fluids cooled quickly on his mouth, and Optimus wiped at his lips with the back of his hand. "If only they could see you like this... I wonder what the other Decepticons would think?"

"Decepticons: none of their business," the other mech answered dryly.

"So it's not," Optimus agreed.

The vulnerable tubing of his neck stretched tightly, exposed while his head lolled back. The outside breeze was a welcome change in comparison the usual stuffiness of an underwater base, he thought privately. His visor caught the sun's dying rays, light reflecting across the surface and lighting it as if on fire.

Prime shifted and laid back, keeping careful optics on Soundwave as he did so. Obviously it was an open invite to the mech, and he curved a finger to motion for him. He had allowed Soundwave in a position like this before, but it was rare.

"Tease me out if you want me so bad," he murmured. A frown flashed over his face, there and then gone. "And take off that damn visor," Optimus growled.

"As you wish," Soundwave acquiesced and despite his inhibitions, he obeyed immediately, the visor disappearing smoothly into his helm.  
He rolled his shoulders, ignoring the momentary blindness while his optical feed adjusted in the low light. He devoured the sprawled Autobot before him with his hungry gaze, optics roving from the proud features, slowly sliding down to the strong chassis and long thighs and then up, up until he was looking back into the intense optics. He lifted his own thighs over the blue legs until he was straddling the other mech, bending slightly over him.

"Sometimes when I return after you finish fucking me... when I am alone in my quarters...would you like to know what I do?" he began with a deliberate lilt in his tone, taking his words and rolling them in his mouth as savouring a delicious energon sweet.

Optimus rested his hands on the swell of Soundwave's hips. He could imagine... "Tactical efficiency reports?" he unhelpfully answered.

Soundwave ignored Optimus' statement with his usual indifference and his fingers teasingly trailed down his own frame, playfully pressing his alt-mode buttons before pressing a finger against the closed panel. He dragged his fingertip across it with a soft squeal of metal. The navy-blue panel slid back and it wasn't surprising that his valve was already glistening, a bead of lubricant already dribbling around the small opening. He was quick to bury two fingers deep inside, not caring if he was too rough with himself. Oh, but it felt so good...though Optimus' long fingers...and even longer spike would definitely feel _much_better.

His glossa slithered out of his mouth like a silver serpent, the volume of his vocaliser dropping further and further. "Answer: I use my fingers to scrape out what's left of your fluids from the inside me and then I suck them clean...until I end up overloading myself. Fantasising about you filling me up again. And again."

With a long, drawn out groan, Optimus watched Soundwave work his fingers inside his valve, twisting them, pulling them out and then thrusting them back inside until he saw the warm fluids dribble down the joints of Soundwave's knuckles and splatter onto Optimus's groin plating. _Splat, splat._His wrists wereangled in such a way that Optimus could plainly see the rim of his valve flexing around his invading digits.

Seducing the mighty Optimus Prime...was exhilarating, something Soundwave was willing to do over and over again. These days, he was finding that his desire for the Autobot was steadily overpowering his loyalty for Megatron. The self-disgust usually came afterwards.

"Your taste: addictive," Soundwave confessed as his internal fans clicked on. His optics were already dim, only a sliver of orange shining through them as if he was too lazy to power them fully. In a bold gesture, he removed his hand from between his thighs and pressed his fingers onto Optimus' faceplates, smearing his wetness all over the slightly parted lips and surrounding dermaplating. The sight satisfied him greatly. Then he asked, feigning coyness in a way he saw many a Seeker do when they wanted attention. "How may I service you, my Prime?"

Speechless, Optimus's blue optics were wide and bright as he watched the mech he had allowed to be on top of him. The thought of Soundwave licking up his cum from his valve after they were all finished was cpu melting, and the thought made heat rise to his frame, most specifically to his spike.

The Autobot's panel warmed to unbearable levels and he groaned deeply, his glossa flicking out to clean off Soundwave's lubricant from his lip. The move had been possessive… though something in his mind told him it didn't matter how he took it. His panel opened and he almost started at the sound.

"I…" he said, feeling if he was drunk. It was the oddest sensation that flooded through his circuits, not unpleasant, and he felt his spike extend. "I'm going to fuck you," he said somewhat unintelligently, his lips working even after he was finished speaking.

He reached up to grab Soundwave's chassis, right above the gold lining around his tapedeck and pulled him forward, away from his erect spike, and dragged him roughly to the ground. With a grunt he swung his hips over and kneeled, moving his hand from Soundwave's front to his helm, forcing his head to the ground. Prime's fingers tensed and he harshly dragged them down Soundwave's backstrut, where he came to rest both of his hands on Soundwave's aft, pulling him up in the air. Soundwave hid his pleased little smirk into the dirt. It was all part of the game after all.

"You're _mine_, you fucking whore," Prime hissed.

"Yes," he agreed, the word barely audible and half muffled into the ground. It thrilled him that Optimus Prime would claim Soundwave as his own, uttered in such a coarse, _erotic_way, the lines of pain streaking down his back plating practically a testament of that. He hadn't protested at being so callously handled, tossed to the ground and then arranged into an all-fours position of Optimus' choosing as if he were some sort of play thing.

Optimus Prime didn't even bother with preparation, only wrapped one hand around his rigid spike to guide himself to Soundwave's entrance, and once he was resting on the lip of Soundwave's valve, he thrust his hips forward, penetrating him in one smooth stroke. On hindsight, it was just as well that Soundwave had played with himself a little beforehand; Optimus always seemed too big for his valve sometimes and it was always somewhat of a shock to feel the burning glide of that spike, moving deep inside him. A sob laced with static – he knew how much the Autobot liked to hear them – escaped his vocaliser, punctuated by a loud gasp of heated air from his intakes. The initial stretch, almost agony and satisfaction of finally, _finally!_getting what he wanted.

Optimus moved up over Soundwave, his hand resting by the telepath's shoulders, his larger frame looming over the smaller mech. With a roll of his hips and the tightening of his stomach he drove forward, then out, then back again. Soundwave's optics flickered with varying degrees of brightness from the forceful thrusts and he keened with pleasure, and he didn't seem to care if the disgustingly organic soil stuck on the oil coating the seams of his mouth. Not even if the dirt crept into the vents of his helm or if the ground was scratching against his sensitive dermaplating either. All he cared about was the way Optimus asserted his dominance over him, the leader's hot chassis pressing down onto him and fully encompassing him, as if daring him to escape.

Not far from the two and hidden carefully underneath a thick foliage and interwoven tree branches, another pair of red optics dimmed further. Laserbeak craned his neck forward, the extended camera scope on his helm adjusting automatically with the change of angle. It was ironic that the device he was using to avoid detection had been installed by the very mech he was hiding from right now. But he was running out of energy and he could not afford Soundwave's sensitive scanners detecting him on their next sweep over. The avian symbiote was practically silent as he lifted up into the air, using his anti-gravs instead of his normal propulsion system and with barely a rustle of leaves; he glided away, disappearing into the dark sky.

"This is the last time," the Prime hissed darkly, the words dangerous and lethal. "That I'm going to fuck you. It ends tonight," he finished.  
Soundwave flinched, suddenly feeling chilled to the core.

It was his worst fears come true and he was painfully aware that he was too far gone in their warped relationship to accept the statement, even if it _was_for the best. The lust faded and he could only stare for a brief moment at the blue hand close to his shoulder, watching the digits tense and twitch. His systems were screaming at him now and what was originally perceived as pleasure, swiftly morphed into the opposite, the ridges of Optimus' spike causing an uncomfortable sensation of friction inside him.

"Surely you do not mean that," he rasped, only one over-bright optic visible from the angle he had twisted his helm, gazing up at the other mech from the periphery of his vision.

Optimus could feel the unresponsiveness, the almost stiffness with way Soundwave was acting, and stopped thrusting. Somehow there just had to be a way to get him to see pure _futility_of what they were doing. He paused and arched his hips back, grunting as his spike slid smoothly out, dribbles of lubricant following him, coating him. Optimus pressed his hips forward and rested the tip of his spike within Soundwave's entrance. His blue optics met the orange of Soundwave's, and he couldn't help the rush of contempt that tickled his  
circuits. Soundwave still stared, even after Optimus stopped.

Optimus couldn't take the uncomfortable scrutiny anymore and he rested back on his haunches. "Don't be foolish," he hissed, "you know as well as I that it would be foolish to continue. We risk everything," he said in a soft voice, a shade higher than his normal baritone.

It was the truth, what Optimus said; Soundwave would be literally ripped apart if word ever got back to Megatron. And he doubted that the Autobot Council with their prejudice covered in a thick layer of promises and propaganda, would be forgiving either.

Optimus' hand snaked down and he wrapped it around his spike. "You've got other lovers back on the Nemesis that you can return to…" He couldn't help the sinking feeling that was developing within his spark. Of course he should've figured that Soundwave wouldn't take it well.

There was still no answer from Soundwave – it was if he was incapable of speaking. The only thing that was running through his processor was that Optimus did not deem him worthy enough to risk their relationship. Dejection was a horrible, horrible feeling and not even he was immune to it. And all he was going to do, he thought dimly to himself, was go back and continue to serve Megatron until he would finally allow Optimus Prime to terminate him with one, well-placed shot.

Soundwave knew what his last resort was, and it was unfortunate that it had to come down to this. He didn't even have to move a gear, concentrating on his telepathic powers, envisioning them gathering into one single burning point before lashing out. Optimus stumbled from the shock at being so fiercely attacked but remained standing. A lesser mech would have fallen. Soundwave didn't even give him a chance to reach for his weapon, sending another telepathic blast straight into the Autobot's cpu. _Then_ he toppled backwards, landing hard by the bank and close to the moving water. After the second shock, Optimus had no longer been able to function, and distantly he had noticed how his frame collided heavily with the ground. It felt like Starscream's null rays, painful and excruciating, but numbing at the same time.

Soundwave was furious. But it was an icy fury, one that did not satisfy him or fuel him further. It was the only emotion he would allow himself to feel; if he lost focus on that then he would surely be overcome by feelings that were not supposed to exist. He moved fast, crawling over to where Optimus was laying. While the other mech was still reeling in shock, Soundwave took advantage by reaching into his subspace and retrieving a pair of energon-cuffs.

"I told you many times that you are my _only_ lover," he said evenly as he made quick work of restraining Optimus' wrists. "Have you not realised that yet?"

Pleased that Optimus would not break free any time soon, Soundwave kicked the sprawled legs closer to each other so he could leisurely straddle the leader. Their interface components were still bared, the Autobot's spike still pointing up towards the sky and Soundwave grunted as he practically skewered himself back onto it, twisting his hips from side to side until that hard length was fully sheathed inside him. The spike pulled at the walls of his valve, the remaining fluids drying out and not enough to ensure a smooth slide, though he barely felt the sting.

A barely discernable grunt left Optimus Prime, he couldn't speak yet, and his mind was buzzing with a weird pain that seemed to penetrate his spark and cpu at the same time. It was like a haze, and he wondered what it would be like to be completely under Soundwave's mental control. Like a puppet under the master's influence. His spike felt only a ticklish tingle when Soundwave impaled himself on it.

Then the Decepticon balled his fingers into a tight fist and smashed it into the faceplates below him. The second punch came down even harder, tearing at the dermaplating. He watched indifferently for the briefest of moments mechblood welled up on Prime's cut lip components. In his shock, Optimus didn't respond to anything, and was slightly roused as he was punched, feeling it deep within his jaw, and he finally shrieked out in panic and agony. Oil trickled out of his mouth and he started to struggle. Optimus bucked his hips up and centred his weight on his shoulders, tossing his torso from side-to-side along with his hips, hardly feeling the pleasure of his spike still being encompassed by Soundwave's valve.

There was mechblood in Optimus' mouth, and feverishly high pitched grunts left him as he struggled to get the other mech off of him. "Y-you crazy fuck," was all he could say, his vocalizer crackling. Anger flared within him, blocking out some of the pain, his fighting systems coming online. "I'm going to kill you!" he howled, gnashing his denta together.

"What made you think that I would blithely let you go," Soundwave finally snarled in return, the usual flat accent reverting into an old, Cybertronian street dialect. He lifted himself off Optimus' lap, knees sliding further and cables exposed starkly at the gaps between his joints. Gravity took effect, allowing him to impale himself back down again. The light in his optics were too bright now in the twilight, casting a hellish glare over his features. "I'd rather succeed where Megatron has failed. Pity the Matrix won't allow me to reformat you into a Cassette. I would have liked to keep you close to my spark, _lover._"

Optimus kicked out and he brought one up to knee Soundwave sharply on his backstrut, and then with the other, while at the same time he thrust his hips up to gain momentum and leverage. Communications, yes, he needed to activate them somehow, and he blankly reached into his processor for the codes, trying to find them in the mess of his mind. One of Soundwave's hands located a barely noticeable panel close to Optimus' pelvis; digits clawing into the seam and forcibly tearing the plating open in an impressive show of strength. A series of receptive ports were revealed, usually reserved for medical use. Soundwave tugged out a long slender wire from his own chassis, a momentary flash of silver from the universal connector tipped at the end before slamming it into one of the ports. Optimus shrieked another indecency and tried sitting up, reaching forward to try to use his denta to bite Soundwave. No, not _those_ports, _no._ Optimus felt the Matrix take interest at the situation, almost like a foreign type of arousal. Optimus' shoulders hunched together as he protected his chassis. The Matrix, it mattered the most, if he could protect it for long enough, hopefully others would come.

"You will cease your struggles, Autobot!" Soundwave ordered tightly, driving his knees hard into the ground in an attempt to anchor himself down.

"Fuck you!" Optimus barked back, tossing his hips up again.

Soundwave scowled as he narrowly avoided getting bitten and when one enthusiastic buck nearly flung him off, he merely hit Optimus again, this time a vicious backhand across the faceplates. The resulting sound rang unpleasantly in the otherwise quiet forest. "No it is _you_that is going to be fucked."

The hit was startling, and it knocked his sensory grid offline for the span of a few seconds, throwing him into complete numbness before everything came back. He gurgled on his own mechblood, and instinctively spit it out, coughing as his vents sputtered for air.

Through the established hard line connection, Soundwave encountered the usual admission points that allowed one to hook into another's systems; guest, medic and customised. He didn't bother with any of them; talented and skilled enough to smash effortlessly through the virtual walls and grab hold of the hidden _master_ route instead. Using that, he barrelled himself into the foreign programming and straight towards the other's communication protocols. He accessed them just in the nick of time and disabled them, uploading his own codes to effectively block Optimus from calling his followers for help.

He took the brunt of other mech's frustrations with a tight press of his lips, pain and discomfort being pushed to the far end and fading into the distance of his mind. Soundwave did not have the luxury of time, therefore he knew he had work fast; Optimus Prime was _strong_and he couldn't hold him down forever_._But it was a long, lengthy process to destroy one's processing core in that manner and Optimus' fearsome will was truly a force to be reckoned with. It didn't matter; Soundwave could be quite creative and adaptable under pressure.

The expression on Soundwave's face showed no pleasure or excitement, just his optics flickering radically while he ruthlessly battled the Autobot's formidable firewalls for supremacy. And then the already terse mouth tightened even more, the optics beginning to bleed white at the edges. He was unable to break through Optimus' main programming core; walls surrounding him at every turn, an almost tangible force that had him inwardly howling with rage at the challenge.

Soundwave made a low, metallic growl that seemed to emanate from his chestplates rather than his vocaliser. Much like two incompatible cogwheels jammed together, Optimus' spike still sat awkwardly within his valve. Soundwave's vents hissed out air as he began to ride the trapped mech beneath him, the hydraulic lines in his thighs helping him keep a steady, moderate pace. A couple of upward thrusts and deliberate roll of his hips was all it took to roughly stimulate his valve's sensor nodes, just enough to smoothen the chafing movement.

But Prime couldn't feel pleasure, only astonishment that it was turning out as bad as it really was. The telepath's valve around him was uncomfortable and his spike ached at all the rough stimulation, so he reached for the coding to retract it. It was not that hard to do. There was a pained grimace on his face as his spike slowly began to retract back into his spike housing, frame convulsing once at the feeling.

"Fine. Have it your way, Autobot," Soundwave grated out, his empty valve protesting from the abuse he had bestowed upon it so he just absently allowed his interfacing panel to slide back as well. Gazing down at his prey, he unsure whether his words were being processed at all. "Reference: Decepticons do not take rejection well. It is insulting to our pride. One must finish what he has started, do you not agree?"

With his communications blocked and down, Optimus could only hope that Ratchet was intuitive enough to come back. His icy blue optics were glazed over as he gazed belatedly up at the night sky, past Soundwave. He'd said that he'd be back around dark, right? Maybe Sky Spy was out there. He knew he'd felt something earlier. With a hiss of his vents, and a pained creak of joints, he laid back, too tired to keep up with the struggle of fighting. It wasn't the physical part, but it was the _Matrix_. For some reason the object kept drawing on his stores of energon, strengthening itself, and he wondered it if was preparing for an attack.

"You stupid fool," he laughed as Soundwave struggled to bypass his firewalls. "Even if you do get past my firewalls you'll have to deal with the Matrix; the collective conscious of five Primes. You'll be overwhelmed at the sheer _knowledge_." He snorted with laughter, lips parted as he fought for breath. "You must have wondered what's been warping me so much." He shook his head, optics dim. A smirk took Optimus' face, cracked lip split and bleeding. He reached into his cpu for his programming, ordering his firewalls off.

"Go ahead, order my chestplates open, finish it."

Surprised by the sudden compliance given to him, Soundwave just managed to catch himself from lurching forward by placing both his hands flat on the ground beside the blue helm, his shoulders hunched up high and arms ramrod straight. He could feel the aggressive coding he had previously assaulted Prime's systems with now bouncing aimlessly amongst the programming, their blockade abruptly gone. Sheer indignation gurgled up inside him.

"Do not ridicule me!" The Decepticon's lip components skinned back over sharpened denta into an ugly sneer that warped his pale features. "I am _not_ a weakling. Prediction for the end of this cycle: your termination or _mine_."

Optimus's optics darkened and he grinned. "We'll see."

He should have never allowed himself to become so enamoured with the Autobot, never allowed his obsession to grow to such a dangerous, _sickening_level. He should have just killed him from the start and robbed Megatron the victory he so longed for. With that one last determined thought, Soundwave sent the command through their forced connection. The first set of plating consisting of the Prime's truck mode flipped back, exposing the second, thinner layer that was quick to retract.

Soundwave could not tear his optics away from the sight.

There were holopictures of the sacred artefact of course, but they were a far cry to what the Matrix actually _looked_ like. It looked like – to put it bluntly – a parasite. The handles were twisted and stretched out like tentacles around Optimus interior circuitry and in some places, even melded against it. The original depictions showed a radiant, blue crystal housed inside a cylinder... and the actual crystal itself pulsed out its inner light, as if it were a living life form, practically embedded into the chamber that contained Optimus' spark. Soundwave didn't doubt it.

"Aim: not the Matrix or its knowledge. Aim: you," he ground out, pulling out another connector cable alongside the one he already had extended. This time he shoved it into a secret emergency port concealed around Optimus' primary energon feeder. One block, one massive block was keeping him from fully engulfing Optimus Prime.

"To get to me... you need to go through the Matrix."

The Matrix swelled with power as he spoke. If Optimus were to bond, the Matrix would slide up out of the way whenever it was he decided to bare his spark. He hadn't opened his chest for anyone, and had only planned on doing it for Ultra Magnus, maybe Elita if the right things had worked out. But, it wasn't his choice to open his chassis. Most mechs could control who they showed their spark to, Optimus could not. His helm lolled to the side, optics blank as assault after assault ripped through his processor, combing through data and programming, searching, searching, _searching_. He wondered how long it would take for his previous _lover_ to figure out that he simply could not bypass it with any coding. There was no programming for it, no secret mixture that was kept anywhere, it was the sole volition of the Matrix.

"You must…" he trailed off. "You must confront the Matrix otherwise it will protect me." A mixture of oral fluid and mechblood dribbled down the side of his chin, and Optimus's hands and arms felt numb from the way they were being crimped. "You must focus on the Matrix… to kill me…" Right then and there, he thought that perhaps, in a severely pessimistic and dark way, that it was really going to be a good thing.

Soundwave's attacks faltered a little at the spoken words. "Termination: preferred?" he asked, almost disbelieving. Then he narrowed his optics until only thin slits of light peeked through. "Or are you baiting me?"

Optimus convulsed and his optics darkened a further, while the Matrix, its shining light, intensified. "Touch it…" Optimus whispered.  
Soundwave drove his fist into the ground and his attacks renewed again. Whether it was a trick or not, Soundwave did not quite care.

Optimus was right of course; he had to go through the Matrix if he wanted to destroy the core processor. He had avoided it so far, staunchly searching for alternative routes but it seemed that no matter how hard he tried, he kept getting redirected back to a virtual block within Optimus' coding one block that kept thwarting him. Programming was ineffective against it and whatever he executed against it was just... absorbed.

Soundwave's tense faceplates relaxed into resignation and he shifted his shoulders, leaning further down onto the Autobot. He lifted one grimy hand from the ground to gently wipe the mess from Optimus' face, although he ended up leaving a long smear instead and the moved it over the artefact, outstretched palm hovering above the crystal. He could feel the building power emanating from it, throbbing against his heightened sensors. He withdrew his hand instead.

The hardline connectors made a loud scraping sound as they were roughly torn from the Autobot's ports and this time, Soundwave focused his sole attention on his telepathic abilities. Telepathic fingers morphed into talons, digging and scratching, crushing and pushing, doing everything in his power to weaken whatever was standing between him and his final goal. And he was quite relentless, concentrating waves upon waves of his power on the Matrix, eager to erode that infernal barrier. His systems were running at full capacity, red glyphs dancing in front of his flickering vision warning him of overheating capacitors and the depleting energy reserves. His whole chassis was shuddering from the exertion. It was horrible, painful and yet Soundwave doggedly pushed on. He wanted to prove a point, anything, _anything_to break Optimus Prime and he would not rest until his processor burnt out.

"I will _have_you," he gritted out from clenched denta, optics vivid and almost white. His arms completely buckled and he fell on his elbows on top of the Autobot. The Matrix was uncomfortably close to his faceplates, the pulsing light almost beckoning him.

_Touch it,_Optimus had said.

He did. With a CPU that felt as if it was literally going to explode and vents barely able to keep up with his furiously rotating fans, Soundwave extended his quivering glossa to lick the crystal. Sparks flew up, crackling across the wet tip.

Optimus' blue optics flared and his backstrut arched upwards as he audibly gasped.

Then it happened.

Something inside the Decepticon gave way, abruptly and unpleasantly and the immense power that surged through him was pure, utter agony. He froze; mouth open in a silent scream, beyond stunned and not even aware that he had finally broke through.

The Matrix entered Soundwave's mind with ease and deliberation, pushing back any barriers the telepath might have erected. Its presence was abrasive and painful, and it did nothing to hide the harshness of its nature, purposely enjoying the way it pushed pain into every circuit.

First, it went to search through Soundwave's memory files, looking through every single thing the mech had ever done, or seen, and thought. Quickly, it cast judgment, silently, and it moved on. Personality components it went to next, analysing and gauging the telepath's behaviour for situations that had happened, and ones that would come. Finally, it learned the mech's physical form. The shape and contour of his face, all the way down to the inner workings of his valve… everything that would matter had to be perfect for Optimus. Its job was to find the perfect mate… to continue the lineage of the Prime.

"Opti..." Soundwave tried to articulate, in some vague attempt to demand that the Autobot rein the damned thing back but all that poured out of his mouth was static.

"Zzz- what- _what the fuck?"_ Optimus hissed.

The backlash was horrendous. It was too much and the gears and cables underneath his plating seized, snapping him back in an almost impossible arch. A sound did bubble up from his wide, gasping mouth; choked and filled with even more static interference. He could feel it, its disembodied murmurings that made no sense and its ancient conscious trickling unheeded through his neural processing network, making his circuits positively _crawl_ with the invasive presence. All of his carefully constructed defences crumbling in its wake as if they never existed. As a telepath used to manipulating others, Soundwave was wholly unaccustomed to tasting the bitterness of his own medicine. Physical violation was one thing but the mental equivalent was absolutely jarring.

_'Perfect…'_ it whispered.

In turn, it showed Soundwave some of Optimus… the real mech on the inside. The trouble he had with controlling his temper, his passions, his faults and problems. Then it showed a few memories, but not all. The love the leader held for his soldiers, his unfailing belief in the Autobot cause. It showed his feelings for Ultra Magnus, a few scenes of feverish interfacing. It was much like what a mech would experience when bonding, but the emotions and real life intimacy wasn't there, and most notably, neither was the pleasure.

_'You're the one,'_ it said, exaltation bursting through it. Now, it gave both of the mechs pleasure, so much pleasure that Optimus shifted underneath, a howling moan breaking from him.

When the pain disappeared only to be replaced by pure desire, Soundwave cried out thinly not knowing which feeling was worse. The Matrix gently compelled him to open his chassis and expose his spark, snaking through his mind and circuits like a virus, influencing with ghost hands that insistently guided him to part his chestplates... and he couldn't even stop himself. His own laser core was recessed further down in his chassis for his Cassettes but with a command that he couldn't remember initiating, it ascended upwards with a soft mechanical whirr. The protective shielding parted and his naked spark shone as bright as Optimus'.

The Matrix started to move, the cords that had been binding it and melted to it loosening, and it slowly slid up into the upper chest cavity where it could rest safely. Prime's lasercore parted, clear glass that could withstand a heavy hit, and slowly revealed the deep blue of Optimus's spark, royal gold energy tendrils twisting within it. Optimus hadn't bothered to close his plate, and with all of the pleasure, he felt lubricant welling up in his valve.

It was the oddest sensation when Soundwave's joints, previously locked in pain, suddenly felt as if they turned to liquid. He dropped back down onto the other mech. Soundwave grinded his closed panel down onto the Autobot's crotch and then overwhelmed with lust, retracted it with a soft _shnick_ for a second time that day. He rotated his hips, the sensitive lining of his heated valve sliding slickly up against Optimus' own opening, smearing both their fluids across their bared interfacing components before his spike slid out of its housing, sensors aching for stimulation. Soundwave's hips pushed backwards as he made a needy, undignified whine, his base programming urged him to bury himself into the writhing chassis below him. The angle was wrong and he was too lost to realise that he was not in the correct position for it. All he could feel was the heat and, oh Primus, all that wetness up against the underside of his spike.

Soundwave's hand, previously gouging out the soil next to Optimus' helm, grabbed hold of a blue audio finial instead and he squeezed firmly.

"Make it stop..." he just barely managed to gurgle out.

"C-cant!"

Under normal circumstances, he would have been mortified at his spark's actions. It was yearningly crying out, trying to answer the Matrix's magnetic pull, and the Decepticon was unable to stop himself from falling. When the churning energy inside his chest finally grabbed hold of its prize - Optimus' spark - he howled out in the night sky.

Soundwave's weight was crushing down on him and pinning his arms, and Optimus couldn't extend his spike no matter how much he wanted to. He wanted stimulation between his legs _bad_, and that's all he cared about until their sparks melded together.

"N-no!" Prime shrieked, and he tried to struggle, but the Matrix took his energy. Prime bucked his hips and spread his legs, aching for something, _anything_. He could feel their essences blending together, mixing, and brief snippets of Soundwave's memory, emotions, and thoughts. But it was quick and hurried while Prime arched his hips up, lifting Soundwave off of his spark, and he then thrust his chassis back up into the unbearable heat of the other mech. Of course he felt the Matrix's presence within him, making him subservient, while at the same time it urged Soundwave to claim what was rightfully his now. Optimus was _his_now.

The joints of Optimus' shoulders creaked painfully in protest as the bigger mech thrust his chassis up again, his spark slamming further onto the telepath's until he didn't know what was happening. Optimus Prime had never been so worried for his wellbeing in a long time.

Tingles of pleasure flared through his body to stomp out the fear – the Matrix made him not care. Whimpers left his mouth, head tossed back while he arched his backstrut so hard it hurt. His wrists were forced beyond extension and he knew they were mutilated. The ends of his fingers dug harshly into the ground, using it as a medium to express his emotions.

"Can't stop," he groaned, "it's the Matrix."

"Make it stop!"

"I fucking can't!"

Soundwave yanked at Optimus' antenna, forcing him flat onto the ground and smashed his chestplates back onto the other's spark to fuse them back together. Optimus' conscience was inside him, and he could feel everything; the Matrix goading him, his fruitless efforts to regain control of himself, his uncontrollable craving for Optimus Prime and subsequently, the other mech's lust coursing _alongside_ his.

The Matrix was feeding him these sordid _thoughts_, these feelings. That its host was his mate now. All his. Soundwave snarled like a possessed hellhound and without separating their chests, lifted his aft up long enough to push one of the Autobot's legs apart. His hips jerked, the tip of his spike scraping against the metal of Optimus' inner thigh before he managed to find the dripping opening. He pushed, the valve impossibly tight around his girth. With a grunt, he pulled back and shoved his spike fully back inside.

Each thrust of Soundwave inside of him made Optimus cry out. He desperately wanted his arms to be free so he could put his hands on the mech's aft and urge him on faster and harder, to squeeze and pull and beg to be fucked. His optics fogged as steam filtered freely out of his mouth, split lip aching as soft cries left him, waiting for something to give. He shifted his legs up, knees jutting in the air to give Soundwave more room.

"_My_ Autobot...so good..." Soundwave crooned, running his glossa around parted lip components.

Optimus felt perfect, so _so_ perfect. His valve and his spark, everything that was the leader's being weaving itself around his own engorged spark, their cores linking and bonding with each other. He was too far gone to realise what exactly the Matrix was manoeuvring them towards, too immersed to protest at its plans. Soundwave pushed his faceplates into Optimus' taut neck cords and began to suck onto his main energon line with small, muffled sounds. At the feeling of the telepath's desperate lips on his neck, Optimus curled his helm into the mech's shoulder.

Soundwave rocked his entire body; hips rolling forward, sparks entwined and screaming in protest when he strayed too far upwards and then backwards again, his hot rigid length being smothered by those wonderfully clenching walls. And forward. And then backwards again. Hands holding firmly onto Optimus' thigh, fingertips rubbing into the metal deliberately as if trying to erase the touch of the Autobot's previous lovers.

"Ah, Soundwave!" Prime moaned, jerking his hips back onto the mech, completely lost.

Oral oil escaped from his mouth, the soft and muted shine of it disappearing down his chin to mix with his neck tubing. He had never felt such pleasure, or such lust. It was deafening, and he nibbled lightly on the curve of his newly bonded's jaw, panting with exertion. Warmth filled him, long and pleasurable, and his valve flowed with lubricant as it started to rapidly constrict around the large spike within him. While he'd seen Soundwave's spike before, touched him too, it had been ages since the last time he had been penetrated and valve fucked, and it brought him great ecstasy.

The Decepticon did not respond, save for low, heavy panting that washed over his bondmate's neck, the hot air seeping deep into the cords and cables. With his energon pounding in his lines and warnings filling up his vision, Soundwave's overload was finally wrenched from him, violently. There was no scream or loud yell, but disjointed sobs of pleasure, hips practically jabbing forward, eager to prolong the experience. Both of their orgasms hit with full force, peaking at the exact same time from the connection of their sparks. Optimus felt Soundwave's transfluid spill into his valve, hot and pleasant, while their sparks only crackled and sparked, and in one last moment, the connection flared into a bright white, blinding him while his frame went rigid. Wave of pleasure after pleasure rocked through him, so intense that it almost hurt, and he blankly screamed up at the night sky, optics darting from star to star above them.

Finally it was over. As the excess energy soaked out of his circuits, Soundwave hazily felt the Matrix retreat away. Soundwave succumbed to his exhaustion, subsidiary systems automatically shutting down. The last thing he saw was that obligatory stasis-lock window before his chassis fell limp.

Prime slumped, their sparks still happily mingling and pressed together. "Dear Primus," he softly said, blue optics quickly turning black as energy depletion stole over him.


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter five

* * *

Soundwave onlined to the Autobot's face and a splitting processor-ache. He gazed blearily, fascinated for a long moment at the other mech's peaceful, recharging features. With a muted scrape, he dislodged an arm from between their bodies and slowly traced a path from one offline optic and down the oil-streaked cheek. There was a comfortable heat pressed up against his chest, spreading warmth through his circuits and soothing his sore insides.

The Matrix. Their sparks bonding.

His memories crashed into him with the subtlety of Devastator's fist. Soundwave reeled back with a sharp intake of air and ungracefully scrambled back and away from the other prone form. He resolutely ignored his spark thumping with disappointment at being taken away from what, he realised with dismay, was now its other half and he hastily covered up his vulnerabilities; chest plating and interface panel firmly sliding shut. The Decepticon pushed a hand onto the ground, hoisting himself upright to stumble back onto his pedes. His gyros spun sickeningly and then he promptly fell back onto his knees with a loud crunch of gears. Evidently his still sluggish systems had not booted up properly yet.

Absently and more out of routine than anything else, he performed his customary diagnostic checks. Code scrolled down various windows in front of his optics, giving him unfamiliar figures that told him that the level of his telepathic abilities had somehow increased. Soundwave tried to figure out how and when he did, he was too sluggish to even react. He was not happy about it; the means did not quite justify the ends. Then, he tentatively probed the new connection that now resided in his spark. It felt nothing like a symbiotic bond. Terrifyingly intimate was perhaps a more apt description for it and beneath the layer that was the Autobot's presence, there was a foreign presence that he identified as the Matrix. _That _was the source of his amplified telepathy and if he wanted to access that new power, he'd have to access the Matrix.

Soundwave aimlessly stared past the river, past the dark outline of the trees before his optics fixated on the planet's single moon. His internal chronometer indicated that they had been offline for quite a bit, though not long enough to warrant the attention of his Cassettes or worse, Megatron. Soundwave...did not know how to react. Out of all the expected scenarios he had calculated, _this _was definitely not one of them.

Still feeling stunned and more or less running on auto-pilot, Soundwave shakily crawled over to the river. The cold water lapped against his shin plating as he subspaced a clean cloth and began to scrub off the dried fluids around his thighs and the various scuffmarks that littered his chassis, especially around his tape deck. Much like a rudimentary drone, he used quick, rough movements and his fingers kept slipping through the cloth, scratching at his paintwork. Right now, he couldn't care less.

A little while after the spark connection was broken, Prime jolted online too and Soundwave's spark fluttered involuntarily when he sensed his _bondmate_ online. A groan broke from the leader mech's lips, his chest plating sliding shut. Optimus' pedes jerked and he moaned in pain, shifting side-to-side to work some stimulation back into his arms. A code allowed him to get his panel shut, and after five tries, Prime managed to roll over.

Optimus was moving around behind him, trying to find his bearings and Soundwave could hear his attempts to stand up. But, Optimus' chassis was too heavy, and when he crawled forward, his cheek guard and helm dragged in the dirt, along with a shoulder, and Prime could feel the black sod and grass wedging itself into places it shouldn't have been. He could hear Soundwave, could feel him, and an unsettling sensation developed in his tanks. Once he was far enough away, Optimus took several minutes to lose the small amount of energon that had still been in his tank. Optimus teetered dangerously on his knees, but after a few minutes he felt better, and stood up, legs splayed and unsteady.

After hearing Optimus purge his tanks, Soundwave ruthlessly squished that unfamiliar urge to console and assist. To merge their sparks and reaffirm their fledgling bond. To mate. The very thought of it only served to intensify the pain in his processors even more. Instead he concentrated on washing the dirt off his helm, cupping his hands in the rather shallow depths of the river and splashing as much water on him as he could.

Optimus stumbled over to Soundwave and once he was close, he had to control the heat going out of his vents before he worked himself up. Prime wanted his hands freed, and he wanted to wash himself, and he wanted his fucking mask. He was bonded. Forever. It was undoable. They'd be able to talk to each other over the connection, feel each other, know each other. They'd be able to mate now, mate to create a spark. He flexed his hands, fingers shaking.

"Take these off." Prime turned around and displayed his hands.

Soundwave visibly tensed when he heard the rough demand and straightened his spinal struts from his kneeling position, impassively taking in the wounds on the other mech's hands where the restraints had cruelly cut in. From the periphery of their bond, Soundwave could feel the other's anger steal through. He could also smell his scent, _his claim_ on the Autobot, stirring an unwanted reaction of satisfaction from his base programming. Without a word, Soundwave stood up. The cloth he had been using slipped from his lax fingers, falling in a sodden, stained heap by his legs. With his mouth pressed into a thin, grim line, the telepath calmly unlocked the cuffs. They too fell onto the ground, clanking against his left pede and sliding across the bank to settle in the water.

Prime's arms hung limply at his sides and he moved them with much pain so he could look at the damage done. Ratchet would be furious.

"Salve: useful," Soundwave murmured as he tossed an unmarked tube by the grass before turning his torso sharply away from Optimus.

Optimus ignored it. Instead he took several generous steps away to sit heavily on the ground and reached into his own subspace for his facemask so he could put it on. He devoured an emergency energon ration, and fought with giving one to Soundwave. Optimus figured he'd have one, but then remembered that they were Decepticons, and hardly had energon to spare.

Hunching his shoulders, Optimus turned and tossed his bondmate a little packet of energon. They were chewy condensed pieces, not the best tasting, but they'd do, especially as depleted as he knew they both were. Optimus' cpu ached and he knew he wasn't running at half of his normal proficiency. After the attempt on his life, Optimus wanted to strangle the mech until he offlined.

Soundwave watched uncaringly as the energon ration landed his pedes. The usual low fuel warnings flashed in front of him and yet he just stood there, droplets of water glinted in the moonlight as they rolled off the angled planes of his helm.

Rubbing the back of his hand across his antenna, Optimus said, "Now you know what the Matrix does to me; whatever it _wants_..."

"Yes. Matrix: very much its own entity," Soundwave agreed neutrally. "Your frustrations: understandable."

Optimus only replied with a grunt and a shake of his head.

Only then did Soundwave reach down to snatch the ration and break apart the protective wrapper. His mismatched optics flickered a little at the drab taste and the energon stuck to his dental plates before his oral fluids dissolved it into something that his nearly empty tanks could be temporarily happy with. Now that he had some energy, his passive scanners activated automatically again, combing the surroundings for any intruders and he was pathetically thankful that the results came back negative.

Then, Soundwave noticed that Optimus had not even touched the salve. Perhaps Optimus preferred to let the wounds smart and self-repair slowly until he got his feisty medic to look at it. It felt rather insulting, though Soundwave was sure that he should be insulted at _himself _instead for failing to kill the Autobot. Then again, he wasn't sure which was worse; his failure as a Decepticon or the dire consequences that would surely follow him for being permanently bonded to the _Prime_ out of all Autobots.

_Be careful what you wish for. The result might not be quite what you expected_, Soundwave thought with a grimace.

No. Fancy little fantasies like that had no place in the unattractive, harsh circumstances of Soundwave's reality. Several sounds abruptly escaped his vocaliser. It was unclear what he was trying to vocalise at first but after several tries, Soundwave realised with a start that he was laughing uncontrollably; strangled, slightly hysterical laughter that did not sound mirthful at all.

Prime's gaze flicked up at the noise, his blue optics brightening. Brushing his hands against his knees, Optimus worked himself up so he was standing. He took a cloth out of his subspace and wiped off his bloodied wrists, then staggered to the side and abruptly turned, his hands forming into a fist. Optimus lunged forward and decked Soundwave across his face, then nearly fell with his lack of balance. The dirt and pebbles must have been unforgiving against Soundwave's back plating. Perhaps Soundwave should have been thankful that he was still weak; a truly enthusiastic hit from him would have had him flying across the river.

Optimus didn't watch the fall, but shook his hand furiously to dull the pain. He panted, blue optics a dark indigo as he rapidly processed what was the best course of action.

"You're going to go back to the Decepticons and pretend this never happened. I'm going to go back to the Autobots and never mention this until at least the war ends. The bond will be eroded by then. You will not attempt to enter Autobot headquarters. I'm going to keep Blaster with me."

Soundwave lay back with his long legs splayed out, one elbow flat on the ground to support his weight while he wiped the back of his other hand across his stinging faceplates. He continued to laugh helplessly at the sheer ridiculousness of their unpredictable predicament, albeit quieter this time. His vents wheezed with the excess effort of trying to keep his systems cool and he swore that somewhere inside him, he could feel an already overstrained coolant tube burst and lose pressure.

"Blaster: second rate communications officer. No match for _my _superiorabilities," Soundwave scoffed from the background, not being able to resist a jab at the other Autobot, though some rather undignified sniggers still rose up from between his words.

Prime went to the river and carefully leaned over, dipping his hands into the water to remove the mechblood. He had been concentrating on reworking the coding for his communications systems since he had on-lined, and he jerked as it crackled to life in his audio. He answered several hails through text, assuring his friends that he was alright, and had only fallen asleep. It was only Ratchet he answered verbally to, but his words were short and concise.

"Bond: not to be ignored, regardless of the war," Soundwave continued to insist, leaning forward as he shifted to pull himself up onto his knees. "Situation: must be discussed. Conditions will not be favourable for either of us. Our sparks cannot take the distance. The bond will not _erode_ just like that, you fool!"

And yet Optimus continued not to pay attention to his warnings, seemingly perfectly content in his own world of denial. Soundwave's fingers clenched slowly and then unclenched periodically against the plating of his legs as his monitors informed him that the Autobot was too busy communicating with his followers. Really, he was better off kidnapping Optimus and locking him up in a cave somewhere, far far away from prying optics. With luck Megatron would literally combust from frustration at Prime's disappearance. And then the war would end and everyone would return to Cybertron. Quick solution, no problems. Soundwave sighed, helm lolling from side to side as if mounted on a single spring; his cpu chip was positively _throbbing._ That ruptured coolant line must have been more severe than he thought...if that last, very asinine scenario he just envisioned was any indication.

Optimus more or less ignored Soundwave's doings and went about his business. He opened his interface panel and bent down to cup a handful of water to wash out the Soundwave's transmetal fluid. Prime pressed two fingers in his valve, scooping out all of the fluid and splashed more water around his entrance. He took his cloth and dampened it so he could thread it up farther, gently rubbing. "You came quick," he commented.

The orange optics darkened at Optimus' callous remark. "Optimus Prime: truly a wonderful fuck," Soundwave purred knowingly and rather spitefully as he watched the other clean himself out in river, hunger licking faintly at his circuits.

Optimus looked up. "But you're _so_ much better... It's too bad this had to happen during war… Otherwise I would've taken you back and made you my pet…" he growled and returned to his task.

Soundwave fixed Optimus a scrutinising look at that. "Optimus Prime: perhaps is more alike to Megatron than he believes," he sneered.

"Haha. No matter what preconceived ideas Decepticons seem to have about Autobots, being nice and forgiving doesn't win wars. We're as cold and hard as the rest, though we do have _some _standards," Optimus replied.

"Your human allies would be _heart_broken at your deceit."

Optimus looked up again, his optics intense. "We never promised _anything_ to the humans. They, along with any species capable of thought, know what war is. There's no good and bad, nothing is set straight. Use us as an example," here Optimus gave a bitter laugh, "But still, Autobots have ideals, and we try to go by them. I have a strong belief in democracy and our unwavering dedication. I don't think the Decepticons know _anything_ about true loyalty."

"Such polished, _naive _words for one who never knew the true meaning of oppression," Soundwave mocked, some static seeping in as he spoke. "Decepticons: never hid their true intentions. _That_ is our loyalty. Autobots: layered in bigotry. Have you forgotten why this war began? Or do you still believe in that imagined utopia of yours, where everything is equal except those who toil below to keep the energon flowing."

"I can't help everyone out of poverty. It's unavoidable. I don't disregard it, but there's nothing I can do until we find a new reserve of energon on some planet. Then, maybe, it can be done. Don't forget war is profitable. You wouldn't believe some of the things upper class elitists will do. I was _never _an upper class mech. I was a labourer until I was found by the Matrix. That's what has spiralled into so much support from the middle class. Someone they can trust," Optimus said with an air of finality, not bothering to look up as he washed himself.

For a long moment, Soundwave stared hard at his new bondmate. "No matter what you personally believe, your efforts would have been wasted. Even if the Autobots prevail, everything will revert back to how it once was. Your Council –" He spat the word out like rancid energon, "-will see to that."

"I have no control over the Council, only Alpha Trion does."

"Then why are you fighting if not for the prospect of change? To defend the rights of all those sentient? Illogical!"

Optimus vented out a deep sigh. He made optic contact with Soundwave again, trying to get his expression across. "I would have _thought_ your chance encounter with the Matrix would have cured you of _that_ question. If you would actually meet the Council and Alpha Trion and Vector Sigma you would know differently. It's not easy to defy a piece of ancient Quintesson technology, they _made _us."

Soundwave's optics brightened at the revelation. It was surprising, though not in the sense that Primus indeed did not exist as he had forsaken the idea of a god or any form of omnipotent being a very long time, but rather how _significant_ the Quintessons were. It was a word he had come across often in his research, one obscured with mystery. "Then you can understand that we should no longer be constrained by the belief of a god and a predestined fate for his supposed children. I have risen from scavenging rusted out corpses for spare parts to who I am now because I believed that if one wants to change their future, then one must fight for it. Even your Council cannot be immune to revolution."

"Don't get me wrong, Primus _does _exist. But he is not a god. Just very old and wise. You'll get to meet Vector Sigma someday and he _is _godly."

"Of course. Godly only to those he favours. Do not expect an _Empty_ to share your sentiments anytime soon."

Soundwave doubted Optimus' words, but the chance to meet that infernal Council was something that he would not refuse...just to entertain the notion of destroying them all. At that moment his own communications systems chose to reactivate. A component in his transmitter shorted out spectacularly in the process, several sparks shooting out from the side of his helm where the receiver was located. Soundwave grunted and quickly rerouted the power towards a back-up, his features contorting with discomfort.

"Bossman! Bossman!" Frenzy's brass voice filtered out from one of his external speakers. "Where the pit are ya? Yer comms were out."

"Soundwave: functional. What is it?" he managed to answer in his usual laconic manner.

"Yeah well. Jus' reminding ya that ya have a shift in three cycles."

"Message: received. Encountered minor malfunction. Will return shortly."

Minor malfunction indeed.

The Cassetticon's tone was slightly accusatory. "Right, whatever ya say Boss. Frenzy out."

The radio connection ended and Soundwave spared the Autobot a glance, one optic brightening while the other dimmed. "I will humour you for now," he said, all seriousness now. The sky began to lighten, a line of blue blending in from the backdrop of the mountains and slowly creeping into the black expanse above them. "I will not jeopardise my symbiotes in any way. But know this. The Matrix was _very_ specific in what it wanted."

"Obviously," Optimus sharply replied.

Prime snapped his panel closed again. Behind his mask, his lips curled back into distaste at the light purple colour of Soundwave's transfluid, and he shoved the rag into his subspace. He turned and rested one pede on the top of the bank, while the other he kept in the water, resting his gyros.

"But while the Matrix may think you're perfect for me, I could care less. The moment I was forced to be Prime, it has given be nothing but problems. I do not want you, I don't want to be near you, and I certainly don't want to mate with you. I've already picked a successor."

Optimus raised a hand and picked out a clump of dirt that had been lodged into a crevice on his helm.

"Who knows, maybe you can get a chance to kill me again," Prime said, and shifted his stance, his hips whining and squeaking as he crested the top of the little embankment. "I don't give a damn about you or your symbiotes, and I'd better not ever see those little wretched things crawling around my base. You don't exist." He stood straight up, posture proud, attitude as cool and frosty as ever.

But the feel of Soundwave inside of his spark...made him _warm. _

The Decepticon was bristling, though he did not show it. To be treated as something so meaningless and unwanted. He was always valued, whether it was his fearsome abilities or his self sufficiency. Even Megatron with his blatant disregard of his own army never failed to seek his third-in-command's advice at times. Soundwave's spark on the other hand, was sinking in its chamber and constricting in on itself from the hateful words, much like a whining creature that's just been kicked.

"I am not a pleasure-model you can just cast away when you are done! Autobot: not the only one burdened by this development!" Soundwave snapped heatedly, his full lips thinned back and stretched over his denta in an expression of anger. His voice dropped into a low, venomous whisper. "Or does it irk you that the Matrix chose a low-caste _Empty_ over the high commander Ultra Magnus."

Optimus' vents turned up a notch higher and he scowled. "Don't... _you_ _dare _bring Ultra Magnus into this." He could not refute the statement of Ultra Magnus. No, the Matrix had not allowed them to be together, apparently. It hurt to think about.

Soundwave's mouth parted, as if he was going to spit something else out before he abruptly clamped it shut. The vivid, orange optics softened and his spinal struts slumped against his waist components with defeat, internal systems screaming at him that exciting himself like that was not helping his stuttering fuel pump at all. He was so weary and it was the only emotion he could afford to settle on at the moment. In a purely defensive gesture, the visor and mouthplate slid over his features with an audible _snap_, shielding them away from the Autobot's gaze.

"I must return to base soon," he finally said, exhaustion clear even through the synthesiser.

"I will return too," Optimus replied. The trek back would drain him of his energon reserves, and not to mention the inevitable meeting with his personal surgeon.

Soundwave's helm canted towards the left, as if pondering something. "Also, Rumble and Ravage are in the vicinity."

"I know."

Sure enough, two silhouettes detached themselves from the shadows and murky outlines of the thick tree trunks. Ravage padded silently over to Soundwave with just a quiet rustle of weeds while the other Cassette didn't seem to care whether he was stealthy or not.

"Hold yer fire," Rumble sneered, as he strode past Optimus without even looking at him. "We won't attack."

"Ravage: disobeyed direct order," the telepath said sternly in an attempt to gain some semblance of normality.

Ravage made a mechanical, grating noise and while Soundwave was perfectly capable of translating it, Rumble just huffed and placed his hands on his pelvic unit, answering for the other Cassette regardless.

"Ravage got worried. Ya were pretty much radio silent for ages."

As if to prove a point, Ravage slinked around Soundwave. He circled him once and then satisfied that his superior was not suffering from any serious, physical damage, placed his aft flat on the ground right next to him. Guarding him. Soundwave must have been portraying a bad image to his Cassettes, kneeling there and appearing as if he had just surrendered to the Autobot leader. No doubt they could pick up just how miserable he was.

"I am functional," Soundwave repeated, not finding the energy to be annoyed at his Cassettes' behaviour.

Rumble's mouth pinched in on itself, working from side to side and he looked beyond displeased. This time he did acknowledge Optimus' existence. And after a long moment of eyeing up the enemy from the corner of his visor, Rumble ignored him again by turning straight back to Soundwave, probably deciding that insulting the Autobot wasn't worth it. He stood in front of the kneeling mech and tilted his helm back, just being able to reach the top of golden lining.

"I'm not sure what sorta interfacing kinks ya two are into but seriously Boss, ya look like fragging slag," he stated without ceremony.

And that was precisely why Optimus hated symbiotes _so _much. Fucking _rude _and annoying. He laughed dryly at Rumble's words, commenting, "That's no way to speak to someone who's newly bonded."

Something in his relationship with Soundwave would have to give… something had to happen. They couldn't keep themselves on such a tenuous edge. The only outcome he could see was Soundwave defecting. Optimus sent a few persuasive images over the bond, trying to coerce him. Soundwave would have good food for both he and his symbiotes in the Autobots. They would no longer go hungry. No more backstabbing. Soundwave's cassettes would be able to run around and not have to worry about other mechs. Then, he added in thoughts for Soundwave, that he would care and please him, even if he wasn't… in love with him and didn't want to be bonded to him. It was his last ditch effort.

Rumble's helm snapped up fast, staring at Optimus with a bright, red visor and a mouth that gaped open inelegantly. "Wha...? Bonded? I mean I thought I felt something but..." He paused as the idea sank in before he shifted his wild gaze towards Soundwave, voice raising an octave with panic. "Ya bonded? _With him_?" He grasped Soundwave's upper torso, smaller pedes scrambling onto the larger mech's legs and hoisted himself up so he could directly scream into the masked faceplates. "Are ya insane? Ya just can't go and bond with _Prime_ just because ya think ya l-"

"Rumble. Enough. Matrix: intervened." Soundwave's tone was that of finality, one which Rumble obeyed immediately. Both his Cassettes were now staring at him confused and Soundwave found himself clarifying further. "The Matrix chose me as a suitable mate. It forced us to bond."

Rumble's confusion morphed into horror and he looked ready to protest even more, and quite rightly so, but one sharp glare from Soundwave made him fall silent. For now. He slid down from Soundwave's chassis with a muted squeal of metal and asked the one question Soundwave was dreading.

"So what happens now?"

Soundwave honestly didn't know.

It was bad enough that he was currently being charmed by the Autobot's declarations of stability, for both him and his Cassetticons. _Yes, yes, _his traitorous spark was saying, _defect and stay with your mate_! However, his still functioning logic centre was disagreeing completely. Soundwave was no fool; he had not survived for this long, blackmailing and murdering his way through the squalors of Cybertronian society to become an indispensible high Decepticon officer only to ruin it by falling for sweet, false promises. After all, it wasn't necessary for one's bondmate to be up and about in order to ensure the other's survival. The Council can simply force Soundwave's chassis into permanent stasis - the bond would weaken even faster in that state - and imprison his Cassettes.

_How quickly you change your tune about me now that you've realised how important it is to keep each other close_, he hissed scathingly directly into Optimus' processor as he sent his own misgivings to the other mech. He used his telepathy to do so; a subtle but unmistakeably insulting gesture. As a Cassette guardian who already possessed a multiple of links, he viewed spark bonds as symbols of utmost trust, one demonstrated over and over with his symbiotes. He would not allow his view to be tainted by this newest farce.

Optimus had no idea how to project thoughts from his mind, or if he even _could. _"It would be mutually beneficial. I have the means, and you need them."

Soundwave emitted a static-filled noise that sounded suspiciously like a derisive snort. He pointedly avoided looking at Optimus and answered Rumble's question instead. "Nothing," he said after a long moment.

"But..."

"We must return to base. Lord Megatron: most displeased if I do not report soon," Soundwave intoned.

Soundwave was barely able to push his body up into a standing position, actually placing a hand onto Rumble's shoulder to steady himself who, in turn, looked positively horrified at his Boss' moment of weakness. Even Ravage bolted up and pressed his flanks against the back of Soundwave's legs in silent support. It made him inwardly wince. Soundwave calculated that he'd actually have to walk the entire way if he was to conserve enough energy to activate his anti-gravs and fly over the ocean to reach the _Nemesis_. He'd have to walk fast too if he wanted to make it in time. And as if magnetised, he couldn't stop himself from glancing at the Autobot and adding, "I will make a decision."

"Hopefully it's the _right _one," Optimus replied.

Then, Optimus watched Soundwave leave.

Eventually, when the buzzing presence in his spark alleviated, he knew that Soundwave was gone, along with his Cassettes. It was nearly morning, dawn, and the eastern horizon was tingled with purple and pink, soon to give way to a normal medium-sized star in one of the most extraordinary galaxies Prime had ever been in. To think he'd bonded on a foreign planet that was so far from Cybertron, and so utterly different. But…perhaps besides the differences in form and structure, humans and Cybertronians weren't that different.

Both species could feel, think, and have love. They could associate themselves through many different ways.

But in the words of Sentinel Prime, a mech Optimus had looked up to with reverent respect before he'd been murdered by Megatron; "Take responsibility for the things you frag up, there's nothing you can do but become a better mech."

With a sigh, Optimus brushed his fingers over the cracked glass of his windshield, wondering what precisely Ratchet would do to him. There was a delicate balance between his cabinet, as each were quite competitive with each other. Optimus debated if he could even manage to get back in the headquarters without everyone seeing him. But Ratchet had already called, and he was probably more overdue from his musings. His tanks clenched again, worry taking him.

Slowly he transformed, his body carefully folding together, and only a few pieces of damaged plating caught on each other. But thankfully they gave way before the pain became unbearable. Optimus drove down the dirt path, following his footsteps from the night before, and eventually picked his way back out onto the rest area. He attracted a few looks, but Optimus couldn't be bothered to pay any mind. He didn't look like an Autobot, and was sure that his Autobot symbol had sustained some damage or was completely scratched off like the rest of his paint. It was definitely something that would need to be repainted right away.

A couple of hours later, Optimus had neatly managed to wheedle his way back into the Ark. He'd used the back entrance, the one Soundwave used whenever he visited. When he was on the inside of the shower racks he turned and locked the door securely, making sure that no one would be able to enter through it. The code Soundwave was used to punching in would no longer be there. With a last disparaging look at the entrance, one he thought should've never been built, he turned and flicked the water on, grateful at last to be in his own quarters. It seemed like ages.

The spray washed over him in waves, scalding hot, rinsing off the mud, grass, and mechblood. It ran slowly off of his frame, running through the gaps of his plating to pool on the floor, slowly circling around the drain hole until it disappeared. He directed the spray at any of the open wounds he had, clearing them out of dirt and congealed blood. Soon he found his vision wavering, going fuzzy towards the edges, and realized he was _famished. _Optimus could feel the Matrix draining heavily on his spark energy, recharging itself. For a moment his spark raced, because he had no idea how much energy was needed to sustain the device. It had never occurred to him, but his energy consumption was much higher than a mech of the same size. His thoughts instantly drifted to Ultra Magnus, and he fell to his knees at the crippling hurt that lashed through his systems. Optimus felt his throat burn with repressed sobs, the cables in his neck straining as he brought a hand to his face, covering his optics. With his mask off he hunched his shoulders over, his form heaving as he let loose a few desperate cries. Everything burned. Burned with shame, humiliation, fear, and a love that was now so incredibly lost. He'd intended to spend his life with Dion, the mech whom he'd loved for as long as he could remember. They'd been best friends and occasional lovers far back before when Optimus had been known as Orion Pax. And now... it was nothing. It could be nothing.

After a few more moments of hopeless sobbing, Optimus brought himself to the present. He lifted his face up, his lips quivering under the hot spray of the water. Optimus stood slowly and shut the water off, then turned and opened the door to his room. Thankfully it was empty, but as he looked around, he could tell it had been disturbed. Probably by Prowl or Ratchet, and he most bet mostly on the last.

His thermal blanket had been nicely folded, and not a spot was out of place. All of the energon cups on the counters had been washed clean and stacked away, and there wasn't a spot or spill anywhere. With a soft sigh, one that hurt quite a bit, he limped quietly through his room, coming to the door where his office was located on the other side. He pressed his helm to the door, listening carefully to make sure no one was on the other side, then typed the code in and stepped through.

He was greeted by a supine black and white form sitting in his office chair, looking quite content.

"Optimus Prime it's good of you to finally show up," Prowl said shortly, his hands folded neatly in his lap. His calculating optics looked up and down Prime's form, taking in the various wounds and dents. "Looks like you certainly got into a fight, didn't you?" The tone was mocking of course, and Optimus had no notions of pretending Prowl didn't know what had happened.

"Yes," Optimus said sourly, his tone bitter. "I had a lot of fucking fun," he said scathingly. He ambled by the mech, using the chairs for balance.

"For Primus sake let me help you before you fall into a heap on the fucking floor," Prowl spat, stepping forward to seize Optimus's arm, where he slung it around his shoulders. Being shorter and smaller, he was the perfect brace. "After you are finished with Ratchet I expect a full debrief."

"_Yes Prowl,"_ Optimus snapped, gritting his denta. "I know how to do my own job."

Prowl made a derisive noise at that, but Optimus decided not to probe any further into the action. They went through the door into the hallway, where Jazz's helm swiveled towards them. He pushed off of the wall, his arms crossed underneath the prominent bulge of his chassis. He obviously hadn't wanted to wait inside Prime's office with Prowl. For once, Optimus didn't blame him.

"Make sure the halls to the medbay are empty," Prowl snapped, waving his hand at the saboteur. A trickle of mechblood from Optimus's wrists was slowly inching down the pristine white of his chassis.

"Yessir," Jazz said tersely, his visor pointed down to catch the light of the hallway. All three of them knew he wouldn't have obeyed if Prime had not been present. He trotted off in front of them, turning the corner, calling out a few mechs' names that were loitering in the halls, threatening to give them something to do.

They were soon at the doublewide doors, which swooshed open to admit Optimus and the two others. Ratchet was there, smiling unpleasantly. He pointed to one of the private rooms off to the side, making motions with his hands. There were still a couple of hurt mechs in the medbay, and obviously _they _could not be made to move. At the doorway Prowl let go, disentangling himself and promptly turned on his pedes to leave. Jazz stared hard into Prime's optics a while longer, his visor icy blue. Optimus could only look back wordlessly.

"Come now, we don't have all day," Ratchet said, prodding one servo into Prime's backstrut. Optimus stepped into the room with Ratchet right behind him, the door locking. The soft hum of the lights seemed very loud then, and the medic turned his back, shifting through a pile of tools that were laid neatly on a medical tray.

"Well? Sit up on the table," Ratchet said, turning his helm slightly to glare at the larger mech. Optimus did so without comment, easing himself up carefully on the table. Everything hurt, and he was growing tired and very low on energon.

"I'm-" he started, but Ratchet cut him off.

"Don't bother to apologize," the medic said coldly.

"I wasn't going to." Optimus laid down on the table, shifting to his beaten body so that he could rest. With a relieved sigh, Optimus brought his hands out in front of him, staring at his mutilated wrists, dirt clods and grass poking out of his armor in ways that jarred it even worse. He rotated his joints, wincing at the screeches as the dirt ground compacted together.

"What the fuck did you do with him?" Ratchet suddenly asked, turning on his pedes. He held a needle in his hands, a wet rag in the other.

Optimus gave a pained, long suffering sigh. "I don't think this is the best time to discuss this Ratchet."

Ratchet's well cared for plating gleamed under the light that was mounted to the ceiling. It really was bright, and Optimus shielded his optics, the blue color dimming to compensate. A sharp gasp of air parted from his lips, and Optimus froze as he felt a cold, painful intrusion to his neck. He carefully looked, but could not see what type of chemical Ratchet was going to inject. He could only see one large red colored thumb on the end of a plunger.

"This burns going in you know. Pretty badly. It's only supposed to be injected into a mech's tank. That's why the needle is so big. But I'm sure you'll manage." Optimus saw his thumb press down a little, and the result was instantaneous. The liquid pain surged from his neck, quickly spreading to his shoulder and right arm. Optimus could only gasp, his spinal struts arching off the berth so hard that it was painful. His hands gripped the side tightly, and a short squeal tore from his throat. He convulsed, his torso turning one way while his hips went the other, both pulling against each other.

"Stop!" he said, trying not to move, but it was very hard. He could tell his aggravated movement was not helping to make the situation any better, and the warmth of his mechblood disappeared into his neck. "Ratchet!" he said again, real fear starting to grip deep in his spark. His vents were running and coolant was pumping through him, trying to expel all of the heat that had built up within him in such a short period of time. He resurfaced from the pain momentarily before he was sunk back into it again, and he thrashed around more, and he knew Ratchet was doing it just to sink the picture in because he could.

After several minutes, Optimus was allowed a breather, and he had stopped moving, only letting the heat be expelled from him. He was too tired to move. But despite the painful injection getting Ratchet's point across, he felt the rest of his body numbing itself, turning him over into a peaceful bliss with limited feeling.

"Stupid fool! You bring shame to the Autobots! You act like a sparkling with his spike where it shouldn't be! What happened!" Ratchet shouted.

When Optimus didn't answer right away, he moved his thumb on the plunger and Optimus jerked, his optics wide and fearful. "I went off like I said I was," Optimus said quickly, and flinched again when Ratchet's face tightened. It was revolting him to the core how much power the medic currently had over him. And he knew that perhaps it was a long overdue change.

"And?" Ratchet insisted, his tone harsh.

"I was there, and Soundwave showed. He had been following us, and I wasn't aware of it." Here, Optimus paused, licking his lips as he rolled the thoughts over in his processors. "We decided to ah…mate to pass the time. I'd come by the decision that I wasn't going to continue the tryst any further. Soundwave would not have it."

Ratchet released a breath, and it was then that Optimus noticed he'd been working on repairs. Prime had been too caught up. He was feeling Soundwave all over again. Seeing him. Touching his body and working over his curves. Optimus' spark flared painfully in his chassis, and Ratchet's fingers stilled over his windshield.

"It got violent and he subdued me with his power. I was…completely unprepared. But the Matrix…had other ideas."

Ratchet's blue optics brightened in interest at that small fact in the tale. "It…was aroused by Soundwave?" he asked curiously, several expressions flitting across his face.

"Yes. It encapsulated his mind, his spark, and searched through him. Then it mated us. We are partners now."

The small tool Ratchet had been using to pull out clods of dirt from Prime's protoform fell with a clatter to the floor. But besides that, he was surprisingly calm. "A Decepticon and an Autobot mated together," he said quietly to himself, then laughed sharply. "Who am I to question the matrix's wisdom?"

Optimus relaxed into the berth below, fighting to stay awake. "Not I," he answered.

"Where is he?" Ratchet asked, his hands busy. "If you haven't mated for the right amount of time, you are endangering the connection. You should both be allowed at least a week to mate properly so the connection solidifies. Otherwise it will be a lingering pain and may do damage to your spark."

Optimus sighed, "We had to part. Soundwave still has responsibilities to the Decepticons regardless. I'm sure something will give soon."

"And what will happen?"

"He'll come here and stay under the Autobots' protection until he can leave."

Ratchet shook his head in irritation. "And how will he get here? And when? And what are you going to tell the others?"

But Optimus Prime's optics and flickered off, and as Ratchet listened carefully, he could hear his systems cycling down into a deep stasis. It would shut off most of his programs and unnecessary functions besides to bring energon to his crucial systems and spark. It would take a long time for him to cycle up.

"What a fucking mess you've made."

Ratchet shook his head to himself and turned to the side of the room so he could power up the monitoring equipment. Above him, the ventilation hummed and behind the fine mesh that lined the opening duct, a shiny human eye widened before disappearing. Spike closed his eyes and dragged the heels of his hands down his face, wishing he never said yes to Rewind and Eject's little hide n' seek game. If only they didn't tell him that his contribution would help them pinpoint how Soundwave's brats got in and out. If only he had a reason to say no. If only he had homework, if only he was out driving with Bumblebee, if only he had a date with Carly…

It was quiet below him, though Spike could hear the faint clinking of Ratchet working filter up through the vent's opening and the elevated beating of his own heart. He wondered if the medic could pick up his presence with those finely honed sensors of his and firmly decided he did not want to be caught eavesdropping on what had to be the most disturbing conversation he had ever had the misfortune of hearing.

Spike carefully pulled away from the wall he had his back plastered against. He squeezed his eyes shut, hating how the large metal pipe that surrounded him suddenly felt too warm and constricting for comfort. A cold trickle of sweat streamed down his face, making him shiver and the teenager rubbed his face on his shoulder to get rid of it. He had to get out there fast. Knees forward, palms flat on the surface and ignore the dust sticking to your clammy skin, he thought resolutely to himself. With paranoia hanging heavily over him, he managed to cautiously crawl down the dark ventilation shaft as quietly as possible and when he passed the riveted joints, he prayed to whatever deity above that if there _was _going to be a loud creak because of his weight then it would be far away from the med bay as possible.

His mind spun.

It was funny how naive he was about the Autobots and really, the Transformers in general. He realised it now that his limited _human_ knowledge of how robots should act had completely clouded his perception. At first, it was all black and white for him; cool alien giant robots that transformed into cool machines arrive from space protecting humanity against the evil robots who wanted to rule the universe. Just like in the comics. The classic notions of good and evil. The Autobots, smiling and ever friendly; the noble and selfless Optimus Prime, the fun-loving Jazz and the stern Prowl and the gruff veteran Ironhide that sounded a lot like his grandpa. But then, the more time Spike spent with them he began to notice two sides in the Autobot demeanour; how they acted around the humans and how they acted around each other. Optimus sometimes was a real jerk, Jazz and Prowl hated each other's metal guts and whenever Ironhide would tell his old war stories about shooting at whatever Decepticon that was unlucky to get in his sights, he'd get a gleeful tone in his voice that was just damn downright creepy.

And Ratchet...Ratchet's cold indifference as Optimus writhed in pain frankly terrified him there.

In reality, there was no black and white. It was all various shades of grey. They weren't robots, they were mechs and what's more, they were Cybertronians. Another species that remarkably, shared many traits with humans despite the obvious differences. They weren't organic but they still had their faults, their own set of prejudices and culture. He remembered asking red-faced one day after meeting the femmes if Cybertronians 'did it' and Bumblebee had laughed it off, vaguely stating that Cybertronians had no gender but frame types. Back then Spike thought it meant that they were genderless robots with no sexual urges, no genitalia and therefore, no need for sex. Fresh off the assembly line. But really, he had seen and heard bits and pieces that suggested otherwise and Spike had a sinking sensation in the pit of his stomach that they, like most other sentient species, felt physical lust towards each other. And there were quite a few times that Spike caught Sunstreaker give Sideswipe a heated look or would touch him in a way that a man would act towards a woman he was attracted to. And it wasn't just limited to those two. Spike commented on it to Bumblebee once, and again his friend just laughed it off. Now that he thought about it, Bumblebee laughed off a lot of things Spike asked about.

And if they did have sex with each other then Spike couldn't even possible imagine how. Did that mean everyone on the _Ark_ was gay? A brief image of sockets and plugs flashed in his mind. What a train wreck of a thought.

Spike stopped and let his head hang for a moment, cursing Optimus and Ratchet for deciding to use English. Shit! What was he supposed to do now with all that information weighing down on his shoulders? There was no way he could confide in Bumblebee and no way in hell he could keep it bottled up inside him. It would eat at him constantly. While he didn't understand exactly some of the terms the two mechs used, he was smart enough to understand that Optimus had been having some sort of illicit...weird affair with the enemy and now they were...mated because of this 'Matrix' thing. And they had to be together. Just like an arranged marriage that neither the groom and the other... groom wanted. What he _did_ grasp was how severe the situation was and how little he knew these _ancient _aliens.

Spike really didn't like Soundwave at all and he absolutely detested the Casseticons.

The boy trudged on. When he literally saw the light at the end of the tunnel, he reached what he hoped would be his exit. He didn't know what that particular vent opening led to and knowing his luck, it was probably someone's private quarters but he didn't care just as long as he got out. Spike squinted through the grill covering and relief flooded him at the empty office he was greeted with.

Then he saw that the grill had no handles, no clips or screws to undo.

Spike's face fell before twisting into a frustrated grimace. How was he supposed to get out now?

He was just debating whether he could crawl back the way he came and hopefully find the rec room instead when the tell-tale sound of automatic doors swished open. Spike perked up and placed his hands on the grill, twisting about to see who had entered. Sure enough, a recognisable black and white plated mech walked past him; he had half-hoped it was Jazz because Prowl's constant staid expression was really off-putting at times, especially when he pulled that 'I highly disapprove' look of his.

"Prowl!" Spike whispered loudly, rapping his fingers on the metal obstruction in front of him.

Prowl jerked, two datapads falling out of his grasp where they clattered loudly onto the polished metal flooring. He looked up at the direction of the noise and relaxed visibly once he spotted the tiny little human. For a moment, he'd thought it was one of the cassettes. The mech stepped closer, his expression cross. "You should not be playing around in the ventilation shafts. They may take you to places where mechs shoot first and then look."

The black and white mech reached up and grasped the metal slats of the covering, and with a gentle tug, it snapped off. Prowl placed it on his desk behind him, then reached out with his hand for the young teenager. "Come on now," he said, impatience glossing his tone.

And this was precisely why Spike hoped for Jazz instead. Prowl always used a sort of tone that made him feel as if he was a five year old still wetting the bed. The human braced a hand on the edge of the shaft and hopped onto the giant, white hand.

"I was only playing a game with Eject and Rewind," Spike said with a small pout. He brushed at his clothes and fluffed out the dust from his hair. "You know...to see whether there were any openings that Soundwave's Cassettes used. Red Alert is _always _complaining about it."

"I am well aware, but it isn't your concern and it's not safe. You will cease the activity or I'll be forced to keep you out of the base. It wouldn't be good if the media heard about a young human boy dying in Autobot headquarters," Prowl lectured. He took a few steps backwards and deposited the young man on his desk, then bent over to retrieve the fallen datapads. He re-sorted them and placed them alongside the other ones on his desk, then took a seat, paying no mind to the human near him. He flicked a datapad on and began to read.

Spike blinked and wondered whether Prowl had actually genuinely forgotten about him or was deliberately ignoring his presence...somehow, Spike would bet it was the latter. He stood there for a long moment, staring at the unfamiliar glyphs running down the datapad. A minute passed and still no acknowledgement and the teenager entertained himself with guesses on what Prowl's super secret personality trait would be. Or maybe he was just an asshole to everyone all year round.

"Am I...being punished?" Spike finally asked tentatively, breaking the silence. He flopped down onto the desk's smooth surface and crossed his legs. If Prowl wanted to be a dick then Spike wasn't going to make it easy for him. He smiled. "Is Bumblebee out on patrol?"

"No, I am waiting for your caretaker. You can go home with him, since most of the Autobot will be busy all of today. There are a few top secret assignments being carried out, which is where Bumblebee is," Prowl answered all in one. He rested his hand on top of his datapad, his blue optics concentrating on the small human. "Please be more careful in the future. Optimus Prime would not be happy knowing you're wandering around the _Ark _in such a way."

Spike flinched ever so slightly - possibly from the combination of Prowl's sharp optics and the mention of Optimus' name, especially when the image of him battered and _vulnerable _flittered through his mind. There it was, that curiosity that began to itch at him. "Can I ask you a question?"

Prowl hesitated for a moment, wondering what the small human could possibly ask. "Yes. I will try to answer to the best of my ability," the commander said, drumming his fingers softly against the table. It was going to be a long day, especially with Optimus in the condition that he was.

"It's just that..." Spike trailed off and sighed, pausing to frown at the deplorable condition of his trousers before his own eyes looked back up at the bigger faceplates of the other mech. "What exactly is a Matrix?"

Prowl paused at the question, staring hard at the human. "_The _Matrix is a very symbolic device to the Autobots. The leader of the autobots, Optimus, keeps it with him at all times, and draws upon its wisdom and power to help him lead. Only the supreme commander may ever have it, and the Matrix often may choose a successor if there is no next of kin, which there usually isn't. Where did you hear of the term?" Prowl asked, flicking his datapad off to show that he meant business.

"Oh uhm..."

Spike quickly cast his eyes down, avoiding Prowl's penetrating stare and thought about what he knew so far of the Matrix. He came to the conclusion that the Matrix sounded like a combination of the proverbial burning bush, an amulet of +20 strength and a Las Vegas marriage certificate.

"I heard it being mentioned here and there I guess," he finally answered, trying to sound as nonchalant as possible. "So it's something that gets passed down eh. Kinda like a king passing down his crown?" Spike then frowned, because sons were usually first in line to thrones and it didn't exactly seem plausible that Optimus would have...children. "Who's uh...Optimus' next of kin?" he carefully ventured.

Prowl drew his helm down closer to the human, gazing at him with one large blue optic. A buzzing sound started from somewhere on his desk, but he ignored it. The Matrix wasn't often a topic of discussion because most Autobots did not know the full extent of its power, but he supposed that someone could have mentioned it in passing. Humans were far too curious for their own good. "Optimus has not procured any next of kin. In order to do so, he would need to be spark bonded to another."

The teenage boy thought for a moment, trying to link the alien terms according to his limited understanding. "So...er...let me get this straight. The Matrix arranges Optimus to...marry, like _mates_, with someone and he can have kids with that someone...? Like-" Spike's face scrunched up at the mental image. "-they construct a new mech and Vector Sigma breathes life to them?"

"No. The carrier of the two mates would carry the new mech inside their chest until the time is right. Though there are several ways of bringing a mech to life, and Vector Sigma is one, it would not be that pair's own," Prowl said, realizing he was failing miserably at explaining sparklings, if the boy's confused face was anything to go by. "To put it shortly, the pair makes their own sparkling - _baby _- and no one else helps," Prowl muttered, leaning back in his chair. "But Prime is not bonded yet, so talking about it does not matter. The Matrix is known to find the mate, but I'm not sure if it always does so."

"Even if it's a 'Con?" Spike blurted out before he could stop himself.

Prowl kept his expression carefully neutral, but he felt a sudden bubble of realization and fear deep in his spark. The day's events were cues to what was to come, then it was best to prepare for the worst. "I could only hope not," Prowl said, his voice icy cold as he finally dismissed the pager on his desk.

Spike refrained from correcting him, just for that childish urge to prove Prowl wrong and make him crash. "And if it does happen, then what?" he asked carefully.

"Then it happens. Prime's bondmate would outrank me, so there is nothing I can do about it," Prowl replied lightly. "Then after that we all can endure the moral breakdown of the Autobots," he added.

The itching to just burst was catching up to him and Spike rubbed his eyes with the tip of his fingers, wondering how bad things were going to be when the shit finally hit the fan. Soundwave was like the most loyal of loyal when it came to Megatron. "And if the Matrix decided that it liked uh, I dunno... Skywarp or something and married him off to Optimus...there's no way they'd be able to get a divorce or live separately?"

"The bond is telepathic through emotions and mates can even share thoughts between each other. Once you are bonded, you are bonded for life. Mates cannot be apart for long, because it is painful," Prowl ground out, becoming thoroughly annoyed with the incessant questioning. "I would advise you bring up the conclusion of your questions, for I have work to do."

"Yeah..." Spike was too horrified to feel irritated at Prowl's dismissive behaviour. Suddenly uncomfortable with what Prowl told him and what he privately knew, he clapped his hands once and pointedly looked at the door. "So who's coming to get me?"

"Daniel is coming to retrieve you. After all of this questioning, you won't even ask the final one?" Prowl asked curiously. His fingers played over the button to access the officer's communication channel - Ratchet needed to answer some questions.

Spike felt his body stiffen. Prowl must have caught him out. He smiled faintly and forced himself to look slightly curious. "Well you got a lot of work to do so I didn't want to push it with the twenty questions."

Prowl's optics narrowed and he clenched his lips together, wishing someone else could talk to the human. He knew he wasn't the best at it. "I'm sure one more won't hurt, but make it quick, Ratchet is currently making his way here to deliver a report."

It was there that Spike was sure he gave himself away - the slight, fearful widening of his eyes and the drain of colour from his cheeks when he heard Ratchet's name and the determined way Prowl was trying to draw him out, much like a confession. He was just about ready to stall for time until Daniel's arrival but now he just wanted to _leave_. The rubber soles of his shoes squeaked obnoxiously loud on the desk as he hoisted himself hastily to his feet. "I really...can't think of anything at the moment. I'll just..." His voice cracked. "...wait outside then."

Prowl's stoic face finally broke into a small smile and he slid his chair back, motioning with his hands. "Be my guest," he replied. There was no way the human would be able to get down on his own. "This all would go much faster if you told me what's the problem is, rather than avoiding it. Unless perhaps you're feeling ill? I'm sure Ratchet wouldn't mind checking you over," he said, using some of the dirtier tactics to get the human to confess.

"You're a fucking dick some days, you know that Prowl?" Spike hissed, finally snapping. It wasn't as if Prowl wasn't going to find out anyway. "I know I shouldn't have and believe me, I _wish _I hadn't but I overheard Ratchet and Optimus talking just a while ago. I'm sure you can take a wild guess what the conversation was about."

"I'd rather know for sure than guess," Prowl replied, his elegant face scrunched up into something far less pleasant than normal. "But whatever it is, it's not good. Jazz," the saboteur's name was said with contempt, "and myself were already made to escort Prime from his personal quarters. But that information is secret. Leaking that would not be good, Spike. You shouldn't repeat things except to either myself or to Prime."

"Trust me. I don't even want to repeat this to anyone else." Spike sighed and folded his arms across his chest. He was a little calmer now that he didn't have to hide anything. He chewed onto his bottom lip for a couple of seconds before glancing back at Prowl. "But yeah. It's not good. Imagine like, worst case scenario. Ever. Optimus having an affair with a Decepticon and the Matrix going haywire. You wanna know who we're talking about or you already know?"

Prowl's processor spun with all of the information, and it wasn't long before he knew exactly who Spike was talking about. He cursed in Cybertronian, the noise sounding like a long squeal of metal rubbing together mixed with a few clicks. The mech slammed his hand flat against his desk, knocking a few datapads off and causing Spike to fall back down to his sitting position. "That _fool_," Prowl hissed. "Bonding with a Decepticon is bad, but with a telepath? It'll make this even harder to correct."

Behind them, a knock sounded on the door. Ratchet.

Spike whirled around, staring at the door. He pulled himself to a kneeling position and balled his hands into fists. His voice was small and plaintive. "Can I go now?"

"Yes," Prowl replied, picking up the small human in his hand as gently as he could. He strode quickly to the door, where it swished open, revealing the red and white plating of Ratchet. "Go inside," Prowl said to the medic, and shouldered past him. He bent down and set the boy on the floor. "Don't tell anyone. Not even Bumblebee." With a whoosh of air, Prowl spun around and marched back into his office after Ratchet, the door sliding shut and clicking with the sound of a lock.

"Well...shit," Spike said to the gleaming metal of the closed door, summing up the situation perfectly.


	6. Chapter 6

Warning for rape, extreme violence and swearing.

Authors: A_Scattered_me & Tsarist_secret

Chapter 6

* * *

A pleasant warmth radiated through the room, along with the minute humming of more than one body. Megatron's berth was a tangled mess of limbs and frames, and the room was cast in pitch blankness. A red light blinked lazily from the corner, probably security or a computer, and a simple holo Cybertronian rotation calendar was lit up on a surface, presumably the leader's desk. Otherwise, besides the occasional flap of a vent, or a sigh, it was peaceful.

Megatron was laying in the middle of his berth, surrounded by three Seekers, their arms crisscrossed over various parts of him. Starscream, the closest, had his arms wrapped around Megatron's broad chassis, his helm resting on the mech's shoulder. Thundercracker had managed to wedge himself between the Decepticon leader's hips and Starscream, and his arms were languidly laying across the smooth silver of Megatron's stomach. Meanwhile, Skywarp had a side to his self, where he had pressed close, his left wing covering the lot of them. They'd all interfaced of course, otherwise Megatron would've never let them on his berth for the night. But after he'd finished with Starscream, the warlord had collapsed into recharge, along with the others. He'd meant to invite Soundwave, but the mech was nowhere to be found in his usual haunts. Odd, that…

Megatron shifted and groaned, moving his arm from where it'd been pinched. The Seekers around him shuffled as well, soaking up the pleasurable warmth. All was well. There was energon, the Autobots had been on a losing streak, and Megatron was _very _sexually satisfied. Perfect.

Not ten minutes later, an annoying buzzer started going off in his audio. Megatron scrubbed at his face with a hand, his optics like dying embers. Couldn't it wait? Yes, yes it could.

Wait. Wasn't that the emergency channel?

Megatron shot up, startling himself fully awake. "Fuck," he muttered, and Starscream stirred by his side, sitting up as well. The Seeker breathed heavily against his shoulder, and Megatron could still smell the bitter sweet odor of high-grade. Stupid Seekers, if they got drunk, of _course _he was going to use them. He felt Starscream's glossa lave over his neck tubing and he shivered.

"_Yes?"_ he muttered over the comm, barely concentrating on the call. No, Starscream's lips were far more interesting. It was so nice when his second was tired and hung over, he put out and didn't bitch and moan. Well, perhaps he did moan…

"_There's an emergency,"_ Blitzwing's flippant and stark voice crackled over Megatron's communicator.

"_I gathered that, fool, what is it?"_ Megatron sharply retorted, laying back down on the berth as Starscream crawled over him, straddling his hips. They kissed like Decepticons; biting with a few strokes of a glossa when necessary for lubrication.

"_Laserbeak is here. The little fucker has been accessing the computer systems and demanding to see you. Apparently there's something urgent involved with Soundwave," _the Triplechanger rolled off, sounding incredibly bored and annoyed. Megatron envisioned him with his pedes kicked up on the security console, and it aggravated him.

"_I'll be there shortly,"_ he snapped, and shut the line off.

"Get off me," he growled at Starscream and flipped the mech off of him, causing him to go sprawling over Skywarp.

All three of them woke up and started squabbling, but Megatron was already off the berth and almost to the shower rack. Starscream stood up and stumbled after him, rubbing at the dried cum on his face with his thumb.

"What did Blitzwing want?" he sniped, catching up to Megatron and slipping in behind him into his personal shower.

Megatron turned his back to the Seeker and stepped into the washing chamber, where the jets instantly powered on. Starscream stepped in as well and sandwiched himself to Megatron's back, his hands running up and down Megatron's taut metal abdomen. The Seeker reached forward and pushed his leader closer to the wall, and turned briefly to gather some soap in his hands.

"I'll have to force it out of you," he muttered, and started at Megatron's hips, working up the lather on the areas where there was caked on lubricant and transfluid.

Megatron groaned and leaned his helm against the tiled wall, breathing quickly.

"There, that's it, you poor excuse for a mech," Starscream cajoled over Megatron's shoulder, and he was quickly boxed in the side of his helm with an elbow.

"Stop it you dumb fuck," Megatron growled, his helm turned as the water beat against him, his red optics searing.

Starscream simpered a smile and stood down. With one hand he wandered up Megatron's chassis, his sly fingers slipping into cracks and seams to touch and wiring and protoform underneath. While with his other, he stimulated Megatron's panel, pinching and pulling at it with his index servo and thumb. The Decepticon Leader's posture had become more slumped, and soon his aft was pressing back against Starscream's hips. His panel opened finally, and Starscream wrapped his hand around the thick spike that emerged.

"Yes yes…" he cooed, giving it a firm stroke from the ridged head to the base. Megatron was _nice. _

Starscream let his own panel open and his erection rubbed his leader's inner thigh. It made the Seeker weak in the knees. Oh he loved to spike Megatron when he could. Right now was a perfect time. Shifting his thumb, Starscream rubbed directly on the slit. He let a few hot breaths depart from his mouth against Megatron's neck as he bit it, then sunk his spike inside Megatron's valve.

The result was a pleased gasp, and Megatron stiffened up so his backstrut was ramrod straight. Starscream jerked his hips forward, pushing the other mech's chassis into the wall and he varied the way he pumped over Megatron's spike. He twisted and turned his wrist, the suds providing perfect lubrication.

"Starscream," Megatron muttered tersely, both of his hands bracing himself against the slippery wall. He gasped softly, sliding one hand in front of him so he could rest his helm on his forearm. It was clear he was enjoying it.

The Seeker murmured something and his wings fanned out, taking more of the massaging water on them. It was delightfully arousing, and it wouldn't take him long to cum. Starscream started jerking Megatron with more intent, squeezing and kneading at the hot metal while he rolled his hips forward in sharp, concise circles. Just the _thought _of fucking Megatron was more than enough to send him over the edge most days. He was also in love with how _tight _the mech was. Well, of course he was, considering he didn't use his valve at all.

Soon, soon. Starscream's pump was picking up pace and cycling more energon through his frame as he reached his orgasm, and he could feel Megatron weakly thrusting in his hand, shooting milky purple cum on the wall. The Seeker overloaded hard, grunting as his hips ground against Megatron's aft, and suddenly a peculiar sensation went through him, a brilliant static shock, prolonging his pleasure even more. When he was finished, Starscream backed away, gasping as his back hit the wall.

"What the fuck was that?" he choked out, shutting his panel.

"Static you dimwit. Manipulating energy fields with your own. It's amazing when you're getting a blowjob," Megatron crossly replied, reaching up to direct the shower head to wash the cum off the wall. He washed himself out with a rag along with the rest of him while Starscream panted. "Hurry up, idiot. Blitzwing said there's an emergency."

Starscream followed with a huff, shutting his panel and grabbing a rag so he could clean himself on the way out.

Megatron trekked across the darkened room, barely paying a glance to the two slumbering Seekers on his berth. He glided out of the door with that easy grace he always displayed, and Starscream made a rude gesture at his back. Fucking mech.

Back in the command centre, Laserbeak's narrow helm tilted left, then right. The avian symbiote was perched up onto the back of a chair. While he appeared bored, there were little signs that showed how impatient he was. The long optics flickering ever so slightly, a minute shift of position every now and then. Then he sharply looked at Blitzwing, staring at the mech with an unwavering, steady gaze. The mech's pose appeared positively insolent; big purple pedes propped up on the console and a disdainful expression etched onto his faceplates that darkened further the longer Laserbeak stared.

He had his recording already loaded up onto the console's main monitor – a massive, crystal clear display that was bound to increase the impact of what he was about to show - ready to play at his command. At Megatron's command, more specifically.

His true Master. Soundwave had betrayed them all, their leader and their faction in the worst possible way.

The red optics brightened with anticipation when the main doors swished open, admitting the arrivals. The proud figure of Megatron, followed by a surly Starscream and then oddly, Hook.

"This had better be good," Starscream muttered, placing one hand akimbo on his brightly-painted hip. "Hopefully it's not some inane recording of that yellow minibot and his human mascot milling about the Autobots' base."

Neural net frizzing with agitation, Laserbeak let loose a tirade of digitised cries. Starscream brightened one optic in and snorted, not impressed. Megatron did not reply, but his optics shifted back over the Seeker's form for a moment before he acknowledged Hook. At least with the Constructicons, the only time they bothered Megatron was when they legitimately needed something. Not to mention that Hook was on the command team.

Megatron returned his gaze to the main vidscreen and watched Laserbeak with some expectation. Blitzwing had also composed himself, sitting up straight in the chair to show some mediocrity of respect. Suddenly the vid screen flashed on and with the colours that were developing, Megatron could feel a sinking sensation in his fuel tank.

Both Optimus Prime and Soundwave were standing, facing each other, and it was Optimus that spoke first. _"I don't know why you return to me time after time. What do you want from me? My spark?"_ His voice rumbled over the display's speakers, swirling inside Megatron's head.

It literally, was like a punch to the face. A peculiar buzzing sensation was building in Megatron's audios and he clenched his fists, looking away, grinding his denta together. He knew already where this was going.

"_Question: do I not please you in ways your Autobots cannot?"_

Megatron looked up in time to see Soundwave press close to Optimus Prime, and after a few more words, they were both down on the ground, kissing. They talked some more, and Megatron was forced to place his hand over his optics. Then they started kissing again, and Megatron drew his fingers so hard across his chevron that it drew up curls of metal, the sickening screech breaking the astonished silence. Blitzwing was sitting up straight, stiff as a board, more than interested. Starscream seemed disgusted and mortified at the same time, while with Hook… Megatron couldn't tell.

"Seal the command centre doors," the Decepticon leader hissed lowly, and they audibly bolted shut. No, no one else could see this, at least not for while.

"_Sometimes when I return after you finish fucking me... when I am alone in my quarters...would you like to know what I do?"_ Soundwave's voice crackled in next. Megatron watched in morbid fascination as Soundwave's fingers disappeared into his own valve, showing off for the Autobot.

"_Answer: I use my fingers to scrape out what's left of your fluids from the inside me and then I suck them clean...until I end up overloading myself. Fantasising about you filling me up again. And again."_

But he forced himself to watch. Megatron's expression was set, his optics cold.

Then, the line that broke him.

"_You're mine, you fucking whore,"_ Optimus said, followed by Soundwave's quiet admittance. And then right after, the feed cut out, fading to a fuzz of gray.

Yes, he saw the impressive length and width of Optimus' spike, and yes, he could clearly see how needy Soundwave was, could see the sheer desperation in the mech's optics. He'd known Soundwave on that level before, a long time ago, when they had still been interfacing. Megatron turned and sunk his fist into the nearest console, sparks and shards of metal flying up. An emergency buzzer started going off and a small fire sprung forth around the damage as he pulled his hand back out. He waved the flame off, positively livid.

He turned away and slowly walked up the elevated dais, where he sat down on his throne, his arms crossed over his chassis as he stared at the floor. "Good work, Laserbeak."

Laserbeak's optics dimmed when he heard the praise. The symbiote's previous rage was gone, now replaced by an awful feeling of emptiness that settled deep inside his spark He took off and rose up towards the topmost level of the chamber, hiding himself in the dark shadows.

Starscream's gaze kept darting to and fro, from the blank monitor to Megatron's brooding form. While it couldn't be said that he was paralysed with shock, for the Seeker's cpu adapted too quickly to crash, he was still stunned at what he just witnessed. The initial revulsion in his tanks bled away as he mentally reviewed the recording, surprised at how forceful Optimus Prime was, completely smashing his predetermined notions of the Autobot being disgustingly gentle. What's more, he was also surprised with just how _sexual _Soundwave was. He had never seen what lay underneath that visor and mouthplate; that sinful-looking mouth and those slanted optics...and their unique orange colour, the tell-tale genetic trait of a low-life Polyhexian Empty.

A look of absolute _glee _overtook Starscream's faceplates once the revelation finally set in. The most important being how _wonderful _it would be with Soundwave out of the picture.

"Megatron," he purred, ignoring the other two mechs in the room as he sauntered over to their leader.

Megatron's foreboding dark optics met his own, just daring him to try something stupid. Starscream fortunately was not feeling suicidal today, too insanely delighted at the sheer irony of _Soundwave_, out of all mechs, being the one to turn traitor. He kept at a respectable distance, away from Megatron's reach.

"Your pet seems to have played you for a fool. He was sharing his, hah, energy field with your most hated rival. How do you suppose we... deal with this?" Starscream asked, his words dripping with sweet, syrupy malice.

Megatron leaned back in his chair, his fingers tightly gripping to the armrests. "We will assert to him why we're Decepticons. I don't tolerate treachery of any kind. He'll be killed without tribunal," he swiftly rolled off, features tightening. Soundwave though? The mech had always been one of his greatest supporters! Or perhaps he'd been playing double agent the entire time? It seemed likely. Megatron always thought he'd been a decent judge of character, and that was just… unimaginable.

Hook had his arms crossed over his chassis as he observed the scene, and stepped forward after a few moments. He glided up to Megatron's throne and took the mech's hand in his own to look over the few gashes. Satisfied that the injury was not serious, he wiped the mechblood off with a rag from his subspace and before letting the limb go.

"He should be given to me. I can test his CPU to find what information he's been giving away. Killing him right away would be rash," Hook's monotone cut in as he crossed his hands over his chassis. "Where is he now?" Hook demanded, turning his helm to gaze at Blitzwing.

The Triplechanger composed himself and turned around to type a few things into the console. "I'm activating the tracker every Decepticon has…" Blitzwing muttered, drumming his fingers onto the surface. "Ah, it appears he's not far from here… around eighty kilometers. If he keeps his current speed he should be here in… half an hour."

Blitzwing turned around and stood up, approaching the throne, but stopped before Megatron. He grinned widely and rubbed his hands together. "Shall we intercept him my lord?"

"No," Megatron replied. "He has shift soon, he'll come to the command centre in his own time. Blitzwing, give a rally speech in the cargo bay. After I question Soundwave in here and take one of his pets -" Here Megatron paused to gaze in Laserbeak's direction, "Whatever Decepticon can give me his head gets sim grade. We don't need a living body to analyze a CPU. A dead one will work just as well."

The silver mech paused in what he was saying, crossing his arms to think for a moment.

"His telepathy will be a problem. Which is why it must be perfect timing. If he senses mass thoughts of his impending death, he'll run. I'll give you the signal when it's okay to start speaking, Blitzwing. Any fuck ups and it'll be _you _who I name the traitor." Megatron leaned forward, optics darkening for emphasis.

"Yessir," Blitzwing said, excited at the way his shift was forming. "Should I leave now sir?"

"Yes, the sooner the better," Megatron replied. "Go from cabin to cabin to wake the mechs up. That'll give us time here."

Megatron unlocked the command doors and removed the high security alert posted for the command centre. Blitzwing saluted and walked out, snickering.

"Hook, go back to the medbay. I'm sure there's going to be… some wounded."

Now it was only Starscream and him.

"Distract me until he arrives."

The Seeker cocked his helm to one side, optics dim with contemplation. While he wanted nothing more than to mock Megatron and rub this latest development in his faceplates, he was also highly attuned to his leader's different moods. Megatron, when being quiet and composed, was also at his most dangerous.

"The old fashioned way, Megatron?" Starscream questioned. His hips swayed ever so slightly as he neared the throne. In one practiced move, he swung one long leg over the other mech's lap to straddle him. "I must ask – was your loyal lap dog always this… wanton? Or is this yet once again another achievement that Prime presides over you?"

Before Megatron could flare up at the statement, Starscream lowered the light in his optics submissively and allowed his gleaming wings to flutter, spreading them back in a proud display. A high-pitched giggle escaped his vocaliser – for the first time in his function, he actually was looking forward for Soundwave's return – and he quickly waved his hand dismissively, mouth twisting into an amused smirk.

"But I digress. You wish for me to distract you and I shall. How about… hrm…how about I tell you a short story. No don't give me that look, I promise you that it's not a story sparklings should hear."

Starscream leaned forward, in a playful conspiratorial manner and run his hand up the warlord's fusion cannon, one finger tracing the weapon's rim in a slow, deliberate manner.

"Now, listen carefully. Since we are on the subject of traitors after all. One long, long time ago, before the War where Cybertron thrived and the unfortunates toiled at its gilded pedes, there were two novice scientists, a Seeker and one that was a shuttle-class who had been sent into deep space to explore and research all in the name of science."

"I don't like listening to tales I've heard before," Megatron said.

"No no, patience. I assure you that _this _one is new. Now where was I...ah yes. The journey was long and cold but the planets those two found were nothing that has ever been documented." Starscream's normally grating voice had changed into a lilting drawl, as if he really was telling a recharge story to a youngling. Starscream continued his narration. "Then, they chanced upon this one planet in the far reach of the north-eastern quadrant of Praxus. A colourful planet, vibrant with organic life with three moon satellites circling it. Naturally, the two young scientists were overjoyed. This could mean a breakthrough in the scientific community – especially the sceptics. Well…the two landed."

Megatron leaned back in his chair, shifting the Seeker on his lap forward. "And then what happened?"

Starscream's optics brightened with the memory.

"So much to see, too much to document! And then the Seeker, overwhelmed, decided to stray away. He stumbled upon what appeared to be a large body of liquid. Not quite water but something that could sustain life. Something slithered out of the thick plant life and wrapped around his leg. A long, slimy… tentacle. More came slithering out, wrapping around the mech's arms and legs, holding him down and spread-eagled into the air. Such a compromising position indeed! And they were everywhere, mapping out every piece of plating on the Seeker's chassis, between the gaps of his armour and into his circuits. And there was this smell hanging around the struggling mech's head, covering him in a sweet smelling haze….would you like to know what happened? What that monster…did?"

"I'm sure you'll tell me regardless."

Starscream smiled, looping an arm around Megatron's neck. His fingers scraped at the base of the silver helm and his powerful engine made a contented rumble as he shifted his aft onto the hard lap below him, making himself comfortable.

"That monster…that organic, insanely strong monster with its writhing tentacles could smell where the Seeker was at his most hottest…his engine, his spark…his interface. Since the planet's heavy atmosphere distorted all communications, the Seeker kept shouting for his partner until that tentacle monster grew tired of the noises and stuffed a tentacle into the mech's mouth to shut it up…the poor thing was forced to suck it."

Starscream rested his head against Megatron's shoulder, tilting his faceplates up so he could whisper sordidly into the other's audio receiver.

"You see…when Skyfire finally found me, I was a shrieking, moaning mess held up like some artefact on display. That creature had riled me up to the point where it managed to pry open my panel and its tentacles were already working themselves inside me. Two…three…four of varying thickness. And they were this big!"

With a licentious grin, Starscream demonstrated with his hands before Megatron's brightening optics, indicating a size bigger than an average spike.

"Oh…It was insatiable, violating me in every way imaginable… and I loved every single, disgusting klik of it. Overload after overload overtook me, my valve being stretched beyond its limits, pain and pleasure mixing into a sensation I couldn't even begin to describe. And Skyfire…that poor, repressed naïve fool…entranced by the very sight of me. Standing here, watching, enjoying it. All that slime those tentacles were covered in were the perfect lubricant…seemed its entire function was to entrap other creatures and use them to lay its eggs. Thankfully Skyfire managed to grab me before it could do that."

Starscream placed both palms onto Megatron's chestplates, regardless of whether his own fans were whirring at high speed. "Now…was that distracting enough?"

Megatron's own vents were running high, and his expression was heated. Fuck, that Seeker was good at being a slut. He shifted, spreading his legs apart some as he rubbed his hands against Starscream's aft. "Yes, it is. What I wouldn't have done to see that…" Megatron growled. "Blowing an organic plant…what won't you do Starscream?"

Suddenly, Megatron stood up, one arm wound around Starscream's back while the other held his aft up. He walked slowly down the dais of his throne until he was on the main floor, and hiked Starscream up so he could set the mech's aft down on the conference table. It was long and wide, and very thick, perfect for what he wanted to use it for.

"Here's what we're going to do. We're going to play around, and when Soundwave arrives, he's going to join us." Here Megatron dipped his hands in between Starscream's legs to rub at his panel with his palm. "Then you're going to play with him when I command it. Do the dirtiest, kinkiest things you can… I'll fuck him…and while he's lost in the pleasure, you're going to knock him out with this…It'll immediately inject and he might not even feel it…"

Megatron grabbed Starscream's hand and opened his palm, pressing in a small device with sharp ends. He then closed Starscream's hand and grabbed his chin.

"Then…we'll go to the cargo bay… and we'll toss him to our brothers…let them fuck that dirty valve of his until it's broken," he hissed, dragging his fingers up the mech's shoulder to fondle the tip of Starscream's wing before smashing his mouth down onto his second's, forceful and demanding. His voice was low, gravelly when he pulled back a little to speak against the wet lips. "And he'll die in agony like he deserves."

The warlord loosened both of his hands for a moment and pressed a few buttons on the latches of his fusion cannon, where it fell to the floor with a heavy _clank_. Right now, it wasn't needed, and he needed to put up a convincing front.

"Soundwave must've gotten sick of seeing me fuck you all the time… you should be pleased with yourself…You've probably helped to cause another rift of discord."

Starscream laughed and he twirled the injector gun between his fingers. "My...things here would be quite boring and lax if discord did not run throughout our ranks. Imagine! If we were all agreeable with each other, we'd all be Autobots!" His smile widened, cold and cruel. "And we can't have that, now can we?"

* * *

Soundwave nearly collapsed the moment he touched down onto the raised platform. Salt water splattered onto his shoulder armour before the door shut behind him into a metal box; a bright light flickered on above him, illuminating the control panel before him and an unobtrusive camera hidden at the corner. Soundwave spared it a fleeting glance. His hands were trembling, the gears beneath his plating seizing and his cables pulled taut with energy depletion and a deep seated worry that churned deep within his spark. But he hid his weakness away from the camera's line of sight. Just barely.

This time, it was Breakdown at platform duty. The mech visibly twitched when Soundwave stopped to let Ravage and Rumble unfold from his chest compartment.

"Good thing I ain't got duty till way later!" Rumble exclaimed. The Cassetticon locked gazes with his Master, a surreptitious look that held promises of a heavy talk later on before following Ravage through the doors and into the ship's hallways. Soundwave stood there for a long moment, statue-still, lost in his own thoughts.

"Stop giving me that look," Breakdown mumbled, optics flickering nervously at the telepath. "I haven't done anything."

"Misconception: there is no 'look' being directed towards your person."

"Yes you were! _See_? You're doing it right now!"

"Affirmative. It is the correct protocol for interaction."

Normally, Soundwave would torment the Stunticon further – he did gain dry amusement from doing so - but duty called. With a bright flare of his visor that made Breakdown recoil in his station, Soundwave left the area. As he traversed a long corridor, he could see his fellow Decepticons filing past him and moving towards the opposite direction. Some held a bleary-opticed stare that showed that they had been roused out of recharge; it was difficult not to fall into compliance to Earth's time rotation and it was the late shift after all.

"Why does Megatron feel like he gotta call us for these stupid speeches at such Primus-forsaken times," Dirge grouched, his vocaliser still emitting post-recharge static.

When he noticed Soundwave in front of him, his dim yellow optics brightened a little with fear, as Soundwave was not above from informing Megatron of such insolence. Soundwave on the other hand, ignored him fully. If Dirge had paid a little more attention and been a smidgeon more alert, he would have noticed the other mech's uncharacteristically sluggish gait.

The corridors cleared once Soundwave reached the upper level. Frenzy stood by one of the corners that leading towards a storage facility, and beckoned him over.

"Yo Boss, ya got a klik? I wanna ask ya something."

Their private communications line buzzed with something entirely different. _"Rumble told me. What the fuck were ya thinking? What are ya gonna do?"_

Soundwave turned, presenting his back towards the camera, hiding his front and Frenzy from view. "Be quick. I have a shift now."

"_I have no time for this. Matrix did not give us a choice_," he explained over the comm. line.

"_Ya, well none of this would be happening if ya hadn't gone off to fuck the Prime. Primus! How the pit are ya gonna deal with this?_"

The smaller mech folded his arms across his chestplates and pouted. "That lazyaft Starscream messed up our schedules again. Gave some lame excuse of improving our duty efficiency."

"_Current situation: uncertain. Do not inform Buzzsaw, Laserbeak or Ratbat. I need to think_."

"Latest roster schedule: not received. Will enquire."

He swayed on his pedes and quickly placed a hand onto his chest, feeling his spark pulse erratically. The bond he shared with the Autobot leader lurked at the edges, teasing him with unrealistic promises of a permanent mate to share a function of utter completion. Frenzy, being his Cassette, immediately scowled and he tilted his helm to the side, checking where exactly the camera was pointing at before procuring a small energon cube from his subspace. It was a quarter full.

"_Shit! Didn't think yer energy levels were that low_." Out loud, he forced a cheerful note to his voice, "Ya will? That'll be great! That Screamer's really been getting up my tailpipe lately."

Soundwave was pitifully grateful at the offer and quickly took it, retracting his facemask and subtly tipped his helm back so he could empty the glowing liquid down his throat. It was hardly enough energon to fill him up but it would hopefully get him going through his shift. With a quick snap of his fingers, he dispersed the cube and covered his mouth again.

"_Thank you. We will talk later_."

Feeling marginally more rejuvenated, Soundwave left Frenzy there and tried to push away that brief expression of dark worry that flitted across the other mech's faceplates from his mind. In truth, Soundwave mirrored that very same emotion and his own feelings continued to churn uneasily. While his affair with the Prime was already complicated enough, the Matrix's interference had thrown in a permanent wrench into his future. Soundwave had to tread very careful from now on and he was well aware that he had to make a serious decision for himself and his Cassettes very soon. For now, he did the only thing he knew would never fail him - continue his routine on the _Nemesis_ until a decision could be reached

What greeted him when he entered the main monitor room was something else entirely. Starscream lazily glanced at him from his position on the conference table as he was sprawled on it like an offering towards some obscure deity that demanded a sacrifice. He then moaned, throwing his arms behind his head as he arched his backstruts appealingly; Megatron's hand clearly moving between his outstretched thighs.

Soundwave repressed a weary sigh. He took a step forward, arms hanging by his sides. "Reporting for duty, Lord Megatron." He sincerely hoped that he would be sent away and not forced to watch the warlord fuck his insufferable little slut.

* * *

Rumble did not look happy when he entered his shared quarters. It was dark and he didn't bother remotely accessing the lights; familiar enough with the room's layout not to bump into anything. Instead, he made his way towards the berth he shared with his twin, eager to recharge the last couple of cycles away and hopefully when he next onlined, everything would be the way they were before and Soundwave was the Decepticons' loyal third once again. Without Optimus-fraggin'-Prime ruining the picture.

A loud exhale of air left his vents as Rumble flopped back onto the berth, his sensitive winglets painfully making contact with the flat surface. He made a note to ask whether Soundwave could get more of that metallo-mesh. And then promptly grimaced at the thought of Soundwave being the Autobot's bondmate. After that brief talk he had with Frenzy, they both decided to keep things as quiet as possible and hope to all things Primus and beyond that Megatron doesn't find out. Just imagining what would happen was punishment enough to his cpu.

"Fuck!" he said out loud and threw his arm over his visor in exasperation.

A soft scrape of metal against metal answered him back.

Rumble turned his helm sharply to the side. A pair of red optics watched him balefully from the darkness.

"Oh it's you," he said dispassionately. "What's up, bird brain?"

The other symbiote glided the short distance and landed lightly on top of Rumble's chestplates. The small mech stared hard at Laserbeak, not comprehending the gesture.

"Whatddaya want?"

Laserbeak made a series of clicks and whirrs and Rumble frowned.

"I don't care what ya wanna show me. I ain't getting up until my shift's up," he stated after listening and he carelessly pushed Laserbeak off him. The condor easily hopped off to the side and tapped at his arm making Rumble growl with annoyance. "I ain't getting up! Go pester someone else."

Then Laserbeak emitted another set of clicks, adding a digital whine towards the end. Rumble shot upright and turned incredulously to his teammate, his visor bright. "Another one? Where is it?"

Laserbreak tilted his helm to one side, giving him a look as if to say 'are you interested now?' and tapped once against Rumble's forearm again. From what Rumble gathered, Laserbeak had found a chink in the _Nemesis'_ security net, in one of the less frequented patrolled cargo bays that constantly leaked seawater. Something that the Autobots took advantage of. Every hole found, every air shaft that could not be monitored, every air lock that could be used against them, the Cassettes made sure to inspect it to make sure whether it was worth reporting, lest Megatron found it appropriate to blame _them _instead.

"Eh, let's go then. Maybe if we're lucky it'll be close to where the Combaticons hang out," Rumble grouched and swung his legs over the edge to push himself off the berth. "Then I can blame Swindle instead. Heh heh, stupid glitch...can't believe he tried to sell off his own gestalt..."

The doors opened automatically to let Laserbeak fly out and Rumble followed, dragging his pedes lazily behind him. He could hear some more mechs being called for whatever 'uplifting' speech Megatron had planned this time but figured that he could sneak in later and hopefully miss most of it. If it was truly important, Soundwave would have informed him. The voyage down to the lower levels of the _Nemesis_ was uneventful and Rumble's expression bordered on sullen, his mouth twisted to one side. The lights flickered above him, the damp atmosphere interfering with the connectors but he paid it no heed.

"This the place?" Rumble demanded as they entered a large, horribly lit chamber containing several unused backup generators. He snorted through his vents and immediately pinpointed a large ventilation shaft that was used for general air-cooling. Laserbeak clicked back as Rumble walked across the dirty floor and skirted around one of the bigger generators to look upwards. The auxiliary fan was twisted on its rivets and with enough force, could be pushed to one side and allow enough space for ambitious Autobot spies to sneak through.

During his brief inspection, Rumble could feel the presence of another's energy field crawling in close, prickling uncomfortably against his own. It wasn't Laserbeak's and his winglets twitched, his body suddenly tense and wary. It really did pay to be cautious around the _Nemesis_, especially with such vicious, competitive comrades.

"Ya ain't doing a good job hiding, ya know," he called out, hand clenched into a fist and ready to transform.

The shadows shifted, detaching from the murkiness and then sharpened to reveal a mech's bulky outline. How Runamuck's white plating blended so well in the dark was beyond Rumble's comprehension. The Battlecharger stepped forward with heavy _clanks_ on the floor's metal plating, looking largely unconcerned.

"Aw don't be so paranoid, pipsqueak," he said.

Rumble frowned. "Don't tell me ya were yanking spike over there. That freak brother of yers not available?" Then he sneered. "Or he just didn't wanna bend over for ya?"

Runamuck smiled and though his mouth was hidden by the armoured mouthplate he wore, it was evident from his optics. Behind Rumble, another gruff voice spoke.

"Not as much as you're gonna bend over when Megatron's through with you."

His vision shorted out when the blunt butt of a rifle hit him hard against the back of his helm. The pain was strong and horrendous, rattling his cranial processors and making his fuel pump stutter. With a startled grunt, Rumble crashed onto his knees and something crunched in the distance as Runabout came into view above him. Before Rumble could get up, Runabout slammed the flat of his pede down onto his chestplates, grinding it uncaringly down and enjoying how it made the smaller mech wince with further discomfort.

Hastily, Rumble patched in a connection to Soundwave. "Boss help! Battlechargers attacking me in sector..."

But he found himself signalling into static, his frequency jammed. Rumble's visor flared with disbelief and he slowly turned his head towards the jammer's source...Laserbeak. The avian symbiote just sat there, perched on a railing and Rumble suddenly knew. The sense of betrayal hurt more than anything and it filled him with unspeakable rage, overpowering everything else.

"I hope ya fucking rust!" he screamed shrilly, squirming underneath the pede that pinned him down. "Ya fucking-"

Before he could finish his sentence, Runabout hit him again and his systems went into temporary stasis from the powerful blow.

* * *

Megatron forced himself to concentrate solely on the from below him when Soundwave entered and when he spoke. His face was uncharacteristically cold as he rotated his helm toward the telepath.

"Soundwave," he said, his stiff lips trying to perk up into something of a smirk. "I'm sure you fucking know what to do, unless you're just going to stand there," he said, shoulders rigidly set as Starscream sat up. His red optics swept over Soundwave's form again, looking at him up and down. Mech wasn't filthy, must've washed up, but he looked horrible, and he was dented in a few curious places. "You look like shit. This is an official reprimand, if you come on duty so… drained and dented again, I'll replace you," he easily said, giving a dismissive wave of his hand.

"My apologies, Lord Megatron," Soundwave said. His tone was perfect; bland, always compliant and never rebellious.

Of course, Soundwave, before Megatron had learned all what had happened, knew damn well that Megatron would never replace him, so he hoped that Soundwave would buy his bluff for now. Well, really, the ending of a bluff.

Starscream sighed loudly and pressed a hand on Megatron's chassis, drawing his attention again. "He can't help it that he's got to hump the generator in the engine room for some attention," he drawled.

Everyone in the Decepticon army on earth knew that it was a vibrating, humming, problematic mess. Insult in cheek, Starscream knew many Decepticons who actually _did _use it for their own pleasure. Especially the ones there were too ugly to get a fuck, or the ones that fervently denied using their own valve with a partner, but got themselves off with it privately. Apparently it was a trait of being more _mechly _when one didn't use their valve. Starscream thought it was complete stupidity.

Megatron rapped his fingers over Starscream's panel to bring them back to task. So far everything was playing out perfectly.

"Today is a special day, Soundwave," Megatron murmured as Starscream opened his panel. He rammed his fingers in the mech's valve, feeling at the well stretched sides, along with some of the cum that had still been left inside. It was still slick and wet from their earlier activities in the night. But… he wasn't going to fuck Starscream's valve yet, no… It was for the effect.

"Affirmative, Lord Megatron," Soundwave neutrally said.

_My, aren't you in a mood today_, the telepath thought to himself as he began to give his verbal report, standing there like a picture of emotionless calm. But his mouth seemed to be perpetually twisted into a horrid scowl behind the faceplate and he fought himself not to let the underlying growl seep past the secondary vocaliser. It would be synthesised as static of course, a fact that Megatron knew and would comment on.

"The international conference of several human leaders was hoisted by the United Nations and it detailed several governments laying down several proposals to Optimus Prime. Their primary objective was to convince Optimus Prime to share Cybertronian technology for defensive means..."

Megatron slid his arms up Starscream's legs and pushed the mech farther onto the table, tilting his hips up. He pressed Starscream's knees as close to his chassis as he could, and bent down. He circled his glossa around the valve's pleasantly fucked rim, stretched and open so he could actually see up inside the ribbed valve. Megatron thrust his glossa up Starscream's valve and started eating him out. His transfluid was sweet, tingly in his mouth, while the lubricant slid down his throat as easily as it always did.

"Oh…" Starscream groaned, his head falling back as he rested a hand on the back of Megatron's helm. "You're so good at eating my valve, Megatron," he mocked.

It was irritating to watch them. Soundwave had been forced to stand in the background on countless of occasions but this time seemed to be exceptionally grating on his already shot nerves. Megatron's glossa moved like a sinuous cybersnake, curling and probing, giving that whore the pleasure he definitely did not deserve. Soundwave had always stood steadfast by Megatron's side and he had never been gifted with such... generous treatment.

The fact that Starscream was giving him that nasty, _knowing_ look added insult upon the injury. The Seeker's blue hand slid down and tenderly caressed the grey helm nestled between his white thighs in an obvious mockery of intimacy. Soundwave's sharp-tipped fingers curled in the palms of his hands, mimicking claws.

His monotone droned on regardless. "...Optimus Prime was firm on his decision to reject the humans' proposals, offering new terms to assist them further on defence..."

Starscream's loud cries of pleasure drowned on the last sentence of Soundwave's report. The Seeker's wings made a dull rapping sound onto the conference table as he threw his helm from side to side, legs trembling as Megatron must have found a particularly sensitive cluster of sensors. Without meaning to, Soundwave found his mental powers surging forward to attack Starscream's mind. But the Air Commander grinned viciously at him when he felt the foreign presence and he upped his own formidable firewalls until Soundwave was forced to retreat like a wounded animal, too tired to provoke a confrontation.

On the other hand, Starscream was lost in his own state of bliss and to him, that infuriating telepath's torment was a stimulant in its own right. His valve seemed to be locked into constant spasms, lubricant pouring freely from the slick hole, running down the curve of his aft, a small puddle already forming on the table beneath him; Megatron's mouth was wet and gleaming with it. Starscream's circuits sizzled with his impeding overload while Soundwave's circuits sizzled with hatred.

"It seems that the humans are more insistent, using our recent attacks as a strongpoint..."

"Oh yes, Megatron! Give me more of that talented glossa of yours!"

"Optimus Prime has offered increased Autobot patrols and further interactions between his scientists with the humans' scientific division..."

"I'm so close...oh I love it when you lick me, c'mon now push it deeper!"

Soundwave's fingers tightened into fists. "Ravage has also reported that Autobot activity around the Ark has not changed since my last report. Unrelated note: Starscream's valve has grown looser since my last observation."

Starscream actually hissed this time.

Megatron glanced up, his optics bright as he licked his lips. "Yes Soundwave… it's loose because I fucked it not long ago," he said tersely before he turned back and started to eat Starscream out like he'd been asking. In fact, he'd fucked Starscream several times, along with Starscream's trine members. The slut liked his valve filled. Megatron was only half listening to the report, but had made sure the computer near them was remotely recording Soundwave's voice. At least that way he'd be able to go over the audio files later.

Starscream, even with the insult dished back to him, resumed his sultry pose and rolled his hips into Megatron's mouth, putting more of a show on than before. His hand was actually exerting quite a bit of force on Megatron's helm, nearly smashing the mech's dermal plating against him. Megatron's glossa played over another one of his sensor nodes and he overloaded, tossing his helm back to hit the table as he gave a long winded moan, his hips jerking upwards. More lubricant flooded out of his valve, and Megatron lapped most of it up.

After a few moments, Megatron stood up, dragging Starscream back down to slap his face. "Don't _ever _do that to me again," he hissed, rubbing at his nasal ridge.

Starscream looked unabashed, and he smiled widely. "My… apologies Lord Megatron," he simpered, running his hands up the smooth metal panes of Megatron's chest. "I'm just… excited," Starscream added, giving Soundwave another lecherous look.

"Well…" Megatron glowered, then pointed at Soundwave. "If you're so excited, why don't you prove it? Soundwave looks jealous."

A heavy sense of uneasiness settled in Soundwave's tanks at Megatron's words. There was something about the entire situation that was... not quite right. It deviated from the routine and Megatron temperament towards him was sharper than he was used to. Did they found out? No...he was sure that he would have sensed it.

"Lord Megatron," he tried, not wishing to be anywhere near those two. "I will take my leave now."

Starscream jumped off the table and was over by Soundwave's side in a flash, proving that he was quick on the ground as he was in the air.

"Come now. It's pointless to allow feelings such as _hate _cloud your processor when a treat like this is being offered to you! Pleasure _is _pleasure after all!"

Soundwave impulsively snatched his arm away when Starscream touched it. Undeterred, Starscream slid around him, facing him. The enticing swell of Starscream's cockpit brushed against the flat planes of Soundwave's tapedeck but he stood his ground, unwilling to take a step backwards.

"I must admit though..." Starscream breathed, filling in Soundwave's continuing unresponsiveness. "You rejecting me those many solar cycles ago seems to just fuel my curiosity more. Megatron tells me..." Red optics flitted coyly at the former gladiator. "...that you are quite desirable in the berth. That you actually have a gifted mouth behind that mask of yours..."

He reached up to cup the mouthplate, but Soundwave grabbed his arm, holding it in a death grip, keeping him from touching further. The Seeker winced...Soundwave was strong.

"How I portray myself is of no business of yours," Soundwave snarled quietly, the effect again lost on the synthesiser.

Starscream made a pleased sound and he smiled sweetly, though it was not genuine. His smiles hardly ever were. "Ah there we go. A reaction." Starscream tugged at the hand still clutching his arm towards his face, with his own surprising show of strength. A long, slick glossa darted out to trail between the tightly clenched fingers, dipping into the gaps, leaving the metal wet and glistening with oral fluids. His optics never left Soundwave's covered face as he trekked up the tense forearm with his lips, laying a long line of reverent, open-mouthed kisses.

"I will do whatever you want me to," Starscream promised darkly. "Surely you must have fantasised about chaining me and whipping me until I beg for mercy. Turn that hate into passion and use it against me. Fuck me until I scream out for more. Are you big, Soundwave? Such a big mech...I'm sure you are."

The telepath's vents ran just a little warmer, a little faster. Starscream was giving him that red-hot look of his again, the type that was sure to drive weaker-willed mechs to their knees, the light in his bright optics intensifying even more when his mouth reached his collar plating. He diverted his attention to the shoulder cannon instead. Soundwave watched, transfixed as that glossa dipped into the weapon's multiple firing points and then traced a wet stripe around the rim, slowly, deliberately.

Optimus' previous words abruptly came to mind_. I do not want you, I don't want to be near you, and I certainly don't want to mate with you._

Soundwave wanted to claw out his processor as Starscream's mouth migrated to his neck, warm air washing out of his side vents to seep into the pulsing cords of his throat, dipping his dark helm to graze his denta lightly onto the main energon line, leaving it tingling with sensation.

"What do you say, Soundwave? Make a decision fast though...Lord Megatron wants a show."

And Megatron...Megatron leaning against the table, watching them indifferently save for the strange light burning in his optics, his large black hand wrapped around his erect spike, leisurely stroking it as precum beaded around the slit and dribbled down his fingers. Down, down Soundwave's gaze travelled across the floor back to Starscream's thrusters heels, up his shapely Seeker chassis, lingering onto the bare interface before settling back onto those gorgeous faceplates.

He was so confused, so overwhelmed, his entire world turned upside down and Starscream's hands were leaving behind trails of fire over his exhausted body, leaving him wanting for more, making him feel wanted.. desirable.

Depressing him even further, Optimus' low voice kept repeating brokenly through Soundwave's processor, like a programming code stuck on a loop. _I don't give a damn about you...You don't exist._

He just wanted to forget everything, even just for a moment.

Soundwave retracted his facemask and grabbed the Seeker by the neck and pulled him close, forcing his lips onto that small mouth, pushing his glossa in deep and muffling the surprised squawk. Starscream recovered quickly and kissed back with equal ferocity.

Normally, Megatron might've smiled or made a lewd comment, but now there was nothing, just coldness and a deep sense of betrayal. Hopefully the telepath wouldn't catch on, but he looked pretty busy with Starscream. He glanced down and rubbed his thumb into the slit of his spike and gave it a loving jerk before he approached his subordinates. Megatron leaned against the computer console, right next to the one he had punched earlier.

Soundwave was right in front of him, and Megatron grasped the telepath's hips to pull him close, Starscream following them. His erection pressed hard against the mech's back as he breathed in his audio. With one hand, he curled his fingers around Soundwave's neck and rubbed at the tubing while his other reached between the telepath's legs, stroking a navy blue codpiece.

"Do you still want to leave?" he murmured, his wet glossa laving over back of Soundwave's shoulder cannon. "Where are your cassettes?" Megatron silkily added, baring his denta to scrape over the telepath's collar ridge.

Soundwave broke away from the frenzied kiss with a subtle gasp of his vents.

"Cassettes: left to their own devices," Soundwave answered, voice thickened with lust.

Starscream's smile sharpened to one side and he wiped his oil-streaked mouth with the back of his hand. "A secondary synthesiser…You sound _much_ better without it," he cooed, reaching down to pat the plates lining Soundwave's stomach, stroking the edges before his hand sank down to join Megatron's; leaving every now and then to rub at the gaps between the hip and pelvis.

Being pressed between two, warm frames was intoxicating. Soundwave's pedes slid across the smooth floor with a dull, muted scrape giving the both of them more access. Starscream appeared pleased at the gesture and pressed his blue fingers deeper into the widened gaps, this time being able to stretch them out to caress the cables from within.

"Don't be coy _now_, Soundwave," the Seeker murmured. "Open up. I'll make it feel good, I promise."

Megatron could not help but notice the implications in Starscream's tone. Of course not _now, _this would be the last time, and it was going to count. The warlord chuckled lowly, mirroring Starscream's fingers as he rubbed between Soundwave's legs. "Yes, open up… I can't fuck a closed valve, can I?" he agreed. Megatron heard Starscream snicker.

It was then that Megatron's internal communications system went off. Something that Soundwave would easily be able to sense even on his worst days. It was Blitzwing, so he blocked it completely. "Like I said earlier Soundwave…today is a special day for many reasons. Today is the day that will reunite the Decepticon army and lead to our inevitable victory over the Autobots." Megatron couldn't bear to say Optimus' name out loud. "We're going to welcome a new, efficient member onto the command team."

Megatron's hand clenched into a tightly balled fist on the back of Soundwave's helm, but he relaxed and resumed his caresses. "It's all going to be quite a surprise… top secret. Only Starscream and I know who it is for security measures."

He used his fingertip to travel along the hairline seam of Soundwave's panel. "I'm sure you'll like him, you're both… similar in some aspects…"

Soundwave should have left then and there. Everything around him was prickling his sensors and setting off alarms. Megatron giving him this sort of affections, after _such _a long time was quite sudden. Also, for him to have confided to Starscream about a supposed new crew member without even consulting Soundwave was definitely not what he was used to. But Soundwave also knew that Megatron was prone to dramatics and rather eccentric plans and those fingers were… very distracting.

"This: celebration? New addition: who is it?" he managed to enquire, visor flickering. His helm fell back, bumping against Megatron and he tilted his faceplates, parted lips brushing against the strong, throbbing cords of Megatron's throat.

"Yes we are celebrating, as a matter of fact," Starscream affirmed. He leaned forward, rubbing his chest against Soundwave's and licked a long, wet line across one side of Soundwave's cheek arch. "And it wouldn't be fair if _you _were excluded from it."

The telepath fixed the mech in front of him with a sharp glare from the edge of his visor. "Starscream: hardly generous."

"No, I'm not," Starscream answered smoothly. "I just want to see Megatron _fuck _you hard like the cheap sycophant you are and I'm going to get off hard from it. Is that a problem?"

Now that was an element of their relationship that he was used to. Soundwave sneered nastily at the Air Commander and he grabbed that delectable, slender throat again, his mouth seeking the other's for another kiss; this time it was all harsh bites and oral fluids smeared all over their lips. It was that very thought, being defiant to his precious _mate_, that sent the flames licking at Soundwave's circuits burn even hotter. His panel retracted and his spike slid out of his housing just a little, revealing the first ridge. Below it, the opening of his valve quivered wetly.

Megatron was quick to take advantage of it. He placed his large hand on the small of Soundwave's back, and with his other, he tilted the mech's hips up. Then he ghosted his digits along the inside of Soundwave's inner thigh, circling up to trace the outside of his valve.

"The new addition is a very close friend of Shockwave's. He was highly recommended. But don't worry; it's not big of a deal. He'll have a… minimal position," Megatron amended.

He pressed his finger inside of Soundwave, the pad of his index finger rubbing firmly on the intimate inner ribbing of the valve. Megatron nipped at Soundwave's neck tubing, his tilted head only inches from where he and Starscream were kissing. Megatron pressed another finger inside, twisting them together.

"It's been _so _long since I've felt you…I've let you go too long, haven't I?"

The Decepticon leader smiled wickedly into the back of Soundwave's neck. Trust them, the Decepticons collectively, to be such a horrible bunch of fucking backstabbers, to contemplate how much rape Soundwave could handle before he was just nothing. It brought Megatron great joy to think about the sheer agony he would soon be in. But… if Megatron been any mech of temper, which he admitted he was _not, _he would've waited at least a few days to deal with this problem and figure out a much more ironic way for him to die. But ah, traitors were traitors. The sooner they were disposed of, the better, especially in this matter, with a communications officer and telepath.

Megatron began to thrust his fingers instead of just feeling, barely keeping his claws from just _ripping. _That would also have been sickly satisfying. With his other hand he stroked the smooth metal of Soundwave's stomach, the tips of his fingers dipping down to brush over a few of the buttons from the telepath's alternative mode. Megatron suddenly grinned.

"Make Starscream blow you. After all, you work so hard, right? And this slacker here is just a fuck up."

"Unlike some others around here, I actually have real responsibilities to cater," Starscream huffed with a glower towards Megatron's direction. "I can't afford to be at your beck and call constantly, oh brilliant and unproductive leader."

"That's his way of saying he considers sucking spike part of his duty," Megatron whispered into Soundwave's audio.

The low, rough tones of Megatron's voice vibrated pleasantly against Soundwave's highly attuned sensors. He eyed up Starscream's petulant features appreciatively and realised with great relish that he would be able to fulfil one of his oldest fantasies…with Megatron's blessing.

"Gladly."

Soundwave shifted his weight from one pede to another and gripped both of the Starscream's shoulder vents, forcing him down to his knees with a _clank_. In retaliation to the rough treatment, Starscream dug his own claws hard into the plating of Soundwave's thighs.

"Do you _mind_,_" _Starscream snarled indignantly. "I could easily just bite it of-"

Starscream's threat died in a mixture of static-filled clicks. Soundwave had found his weak spot; those white, broad wings. The telepath paid special attention to the sweeping tips, pinching them lightly before stroking the smooth edges slowly and then up again, dragging his palms against the metal. Starscream positively melted from the attention and when he looked up at Soundwave from beneath the contours of his helm.

"Well.. since you insist…" Starscream said sullenly.

"Now," Megatron growled, "face fuck that _slut." _

The corners of Soundwave's lip components skewed upwards into a self-satisfied smirk. He transferred his hold from Starscream's wings to grab the sides of his helm instead and pulled him face first towards his interface. In his excitement at the prospect of _finally_ shutting Starscream up, his spike extended to its full length to stand impressively before the Seeker's wide optics.

"My…" Starscream marvelled. "What a nice spike you have."

"Taste it," Soundwave ordered brusquely.

Soundwave bumped the rounded head of his spike against the dark faceplates, tilting his hips up to rub it insistently up the flawless dermal plating. In doing so, he nearly dislodged Megatron's fingers from his quickly lubricating valve. The warlord's cruel clawtips grazed ever so slightly against the textured walls of his valve, giving him just the right amount of sensation to moan and push his pelvis back again so he could feel their stretch again. More moans spilled out from his vocaliser when Starscream latched onto his spike, engulfing it expertly into the slick, warm cavern of his mouth. Megatron didn't have the best view, but that was fine. The slurping noises Starscream was making were enough to entertain him.

"Mm, you want something in your valve?" Megatron's husky timbre drawled, and he slid his knee down the inside of Soundwave's legs, spreading them. Crudely he grabbed Soundwave's hips and pulled him back, laughing at the noise of irritation Starscream made. "You should be an expert on this by now Starscream!" he chided.

In one smooth motion Megatron thrust inside, seating himself deep within the well lubricated valve. "Let me show you how to do this," he murmured, reaching around Soundwave to pull on the back of Starscream's helm, forcing him back on Soundwave's spike.

"Hold his head there," Megatron directed Soundwave.

Soundwave gasped, his fingers rubbing the dark metal of Starscream's helm and his valve clenched like a hungry thing around Megatron's thick spike. But Megatron continued to hold tightly onto Soundwave's waist, supporting some of his weight. The angle was difficult, but ultimately worth it. Megatron tilted his hips back and then thrust forward again, creating a dual effect. With Megatron directing the motion, Soundwave's spike would literally fuck Starscream's mouth, and he knew it wouldn't be pleasant for the little Seeker. Perhaps he'd learn to watch his mouth, and the thought nearly made him laugh. Megatron started to move forward with small, concise circular motions of his hips and the small of his back hurt from where the computer console behind was gouging into him. He curved his hand around Soundwave's stomach plating, freeing his other one.

Slowly Megatron drew his clawed fingers up Soundwave's backstrut until he reached the base of his helm. Megatron caressed the metal and grabbed the slanted finial on the side of his head, forcing him back. "You're a lucky mech, aren't you Soundwave? I've always given you _special _treatment, haven't I?" It sounded like he was trying to reaffirm Soundwave's betrayal with _himself. _

Soundwave gazed up at his leader, his slanted vision jerking with each slam of Megatron's sizeable shaft inside his tightening valve. The visor flashed with uncertainty. "My Lord?"

Then Starscream's glossa pressed upwards against the underside of Soundwave's hard spike, the flexible metal passing each ridge and bump each time the spike slid in and out of his relaxed mouth. That wasn't the only trick the Seeker knew. He lowered his gaze, just barely catching the sight of Soundwave's stretched opening from the edge of his vision and with one hand braced upon the long line of the thigh before him, he raised the other arm to palm Soundwave's inner thigh, smearing the spilt fluids upwards until the tips of his fingers reached the filled valve. Each time Megatron would pull back, more lubricant would trickle across his probing fingers as he methodically worked one inside, curving it outwards to stretch the already taut rim outwards.

Soundwave's lips parted with pleasure, a long line of oil streaming down his chin and he keened as if he was in pain. His valve began to clench tightly and the charge of his approaching overload began to build, the energon pumping powerfully through his lines and straight into the swirling energy of his spark. The finger stuffed inside him slid around the rapidly moving spike; an almost unbearable contrast of speeds that confused his body. The pad of Starscream's thumb joined in, rubbing across the valve's extended lip, digging in slightly so he could pull it open even wider, enough to force a second finger. Soundwave's filled valve practically _pulsed, _releasing a burst of hot lubricant. The opaque fluid ran down Starscream's hand, soaking itself into his knuckle and wrist joints and he hummed with amusement as he worked the spike inside his mouth deeper down his throat tubing, expertly able to swallow the thickness.

Soundwave's visor was a vivid scarlet red, burning as bright as the plating of his body. His hips rocked jerkily, a thin digital whine almost grinding itself out of his vocaliser. His fingers tightened on the Seeker's helm, holding him firmly in place, as he began to shake. So close, he was so close, his sensors so highly sensitized, teetering on the edge just about ready to tip over.

Megatron's muscle cables were burning from the force he was using to pound up into Soundwave. Good thing he had decided to let Starscream deliver the injection, because there was no way he could concentrate on anything with how tight his third-in-command kept clenching around him. It wasn't sporadic either; it was a constant rippling pleasure. He threw his head back and groaned as he thrust in and out, his spike throbbing.

The Decepticon leader snaked his fingers up Soundwave's chassis, passing along the cords of his neck and up to his mouth. He played with the mech's lips, rubbing the pad of his thumb across Soundwave's bottom one.

"You're such a foolish mech, Soundwave."

Megatron's overload was quick and fast. Pleasure clouded his sensors for a painful few seconds, deep and intense, and he snapped Soundwave's jaw up, pulling the mech's head back. He forced Soundwave to bare his neck as he covered his mouth, the tubing below pulsing with raw energy. Megatron knew Soundwave was too close to his overload to resist anything.

"Hurry up and overload so I can fucking kill you already," Megatron growled in Soundwave's audio receptor, his claws sinking into soft dermal metal.

For Soundwave everything seemed to happen at once. Realisation washed over him, much like being hurtled unprepared within the freezing vacuum of space and yet his body continued unheeded on its own, ripping the overload painfully from him. He shuddered from the unwanted pleasure and the, _Primus_, the horror as both his _former_ comrades' mental blocks disappeared, their malicious thoughts flooding his processor with exactly what they had planned for him. He could vaguely feel the sensors on his spike react with the open air as Starscream pulled away, his hips thrusting forward in some sort of grotesque parody of the enjoyment that he was unable to feel anymore, transfluid spurting out from the tip to splatter all over Starscream's open mouth and outstretched glossa.

Laserbeak. The knowledge of it pierced his spark.

Soundwave tried to break free, his body paralysed as the overload overwhelmed his systems with the energy influx and he tried so desperately to grasp his bearings fast enough to communicate with his symbiotes, to order them to escape while they still could.

Rumble's voice crackled through Soundwave's frequency.

"_Boss hel_-"

And then it cut out abruptly.

Starscream's leering, dripping wet faceplates filled his vision. Soundwave's hesitation cost him dearly; sharp pain assaulting his neural network as Starscream jabbed something sharp into the main cable lining his throat. It happened so fast. He lost control over the fledgling bond he shared with Optimus and it flared open, panic seeping through it before his world went black.

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	7. Chapter 7

Chapter seven

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Wow you guys, thanks for all the nice reviews! I was amazed by how many of you responded, and with such lengthy reviews. That's what we love, and I will reply to any review, regardless of the length. Please remember that I cannot respond to anonymous reviews, so don't ask me questions anonymously because I can't answer them!

For all of you who read the last chapter and were wondering what was going to happen next, be prepared to be amazed. Happy reading!

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It was never a good sign when the first thing that greeted your audio receivers after waking up was Megatron's booming voice.

It usually meant that you were fucked. And Soundwave's grace period with whatever deity was up there – Primus, Unicron or even the Earthlings' universal _God_ – had ran out a very long time ago.

The deck's cold surface was mashed up uncomfortably against his unprotected face. He ached and ached and everything hurt. Soundwave was dangerously low on fuel and a quick check confirmed what he already knew; he had been stripped of all weapons. Subspace included.

He needed to get out of there. They knew. He'd been betrayed by a very fragment of his spark.

Whatever sedative they pumped into him had been strong, for Soundwave's fuel systems were calibrated to specially filter out any potentially unsafe substances given to him. He could still feel it contaminating his lines and the lack of energon in his body just made it worse. Sluggish as he felt, he had to get out of there. They knew. He had committed the worst possible treason and they were going to kill him.

The telepathy refused to obey him. It roused within his mind like a dying creature and then sank back down and in his helplessness, he began to panic because he was too weak to utilise it. Feebly, he activated his proximity scanners but he didn't even have the power to be subtle about it. They'd immediately know he was online.

"Well Soundwave, don't be rude," Megatron goaded and his voice grew stonier with each word he spat out. "Everyone's here to greet you, so stop lying there like a pile of scrap and stand up like a mech, you unfaithful little Autobot-fucker."

There was no use in pretending. Soundwave snapped his mask in place and carefully pulled himself to his pedes, thankful that his interface panel had automatically slid shut. He swayed but his fuel pump sped up and the foreign chemicals finally began to dissipate more effectively.

"You're going to die here," Megatron proclaimed darkly, the look on his angular faceplates vicious. "But we can count on you to give us a show before you do, yes?"

The cargo bay of the Nemesis was actually a separate structure just off from the actual ship, connected by a short passageway. Because of its reinforced, double-layered bulkheads, it also served as an impromptu sparring arena every now and then when the Decepticons needed more than just the standard entertainment fare.

Soundwave quickly analysed his situation. He was in the middle of the designated arena and a harsh, white spotlight illuminated him from above, putting him in display. In the shadows, surrounding him from every corner, were all his former subordinates. He saw their optics burning brightly, heavy with bloodlust and satisfaction. It was a fact that they all hated him and it was something that he had long accepted and didn't care to change. Now however, the impatience to simply rend him from limb to limb was practically tangible in the air above them. He didn't even need his telepathy to understand that.

And above them, like a wrathful idol, Megatron watched from the raised platform he had the Constructicons especially erect just for him. Starscream stood by his side like a luxurious, high-priced whore and Laserbeak sat on his shoulder like he'd always belonged there. And further on back, on the railing, was Ratbat.

Soundwave wanted to scream.

He wanted to scream because Laserbeak was a symbiote he had created alongside with Buzzsaw from fragments of his own spark and the betrayal was a horrible, icy feeling that burned worse than any fire. He wanted to scream because there were two empty holes left in the symbiotic bond that once belonged to Laserbeak and Ratbat, leaving no mistake to where their allegiance now lay. He wanted to rage, wanted to kill them for even thinking of doing this to the rest of them.

Furthermore, he couldn't communicate with the rest of his Cassettes in fear of Laserbeak and Ratbat who knew all their secret, long-distance frequencies. But he could feel them still alive in his spark and he hoped that they had enough sense to escape.

"You remember what the rules of a survival arena were, right?" Megatron bellowed down to him.

Of course Soundwave did. The rules were very simple—opponents were thrown at the unlucky mech one by one until finally succumbing to his injuries. No external or inbuilt weapons were allowed and the mechs were barred from transforming. Natural abilities however, were allowed. Sometimes there was a limit of how many opponents the survivor would face. Ten. Twenty. And if he did survive until the end, then usually he was promised a reward. If the arena ringmaster called out 'zero' then the game would no longer be a game of survival. It would be a game of slow, painful termination. 'Zero' meant that there was no limit to the opponents. In this case, there was only one number.

"Zero!"

Soundwave straightened, spinal struts ramrod straight despite the pain he felt. He was not surprised. Unfortunately for him, there was no such thing as a weak Decepticon. All the mechs here could hold their own in a battle and the ones who couldn't had been quickly weeded off early in the war. He expected to die here. But he would make sure to take as many to the Pit with him. Fuck Optimus Prime and the Matrix.

"But let it be known," Megatron continued to shout. "That I'm not an _unfair _leader—" Starscream sniggered loudly at this but swiftly stopped when Megatron threw a glare at him. "—so I will be the one who will choose your opponents each round. That way, I'll be able to match up the best of my _loyal _soldiers for you to fight. Because I always gave you the best, did I not, Soundwave?"

Soundwave refused to answer.

"Hmph. Dirge! You're number one!"

Amidst the collective cries of outrage and disappointment, Soundwave privately cursed his fate. No, Megatron chose wisely there. He was going to work Soundwave up, warm him up with the weaker of his fighters before slamming him down with the strongest. But Dirge himself was no weakling. None of the Seekers were. Though much, much lighter than their ground based counterparts, they were still big and naturally aggressive. The lack of weight made them fast, nimble and their heel turbines were deadly.

Dirge appeared, stalking past the others who stepped back to let him through. His bright, yellow optics shone with eagerness even if the expression on his face was as predictably blue as his paintjob. The protruding wings of Dirge's VTOL alt-mode clicked back to safely rest against his plating to ensure that the sensitive appendages would not be targeted during the fight. It showed just serious he was taking this.

"Ready?" Dirge rumbled before the expression he wore was smashed away and replaced with a wicked sneer of excitement.

A containment field shot up from specialised power points embedded into the floor to link up with the ones that lay directly above in the ceiling, effectively trapping the two mechs in a square cage made out of energy.

Only one of them was happy about it.

Whatever the outcome of this particular fight would end up as, Soundwave first had to calculate how to avoid Dirge's skill in fear manipulation and his own lack of energy to block the dangerous frequency. He relaxed his stance, fingers curling slightly and kept his attention solely on the Seeker standing before him. In response, Dirge didn't quite use his special skill just yet and Soundwave knew that he was waiting for that one, special opportunity to force it onto him. After all, Soundwave could have effortlessly blocked it under normal circumstances. Good thing Dirge wasn't privy to that knowledge. Not just yet anyway. He'd soon figure it out.

Red, bright flashing red, the symbol for warning and pain, and that was the colour of the low-energy windows blaring in front of the telepath's optics. He had to get energy fast or else he would not survive past the second opponent. And the solution to that stood in front of him…Soundwave just had to get close enough to take it.

Like most Decepticons, Dirge acted rashly. He lunged at the other mech, swift on his thrusters and quick to use his anti-gravs. Soundwave barely avoided the kick, falling back as a surge of heat from the activated jet turbines brushed past him. The navy-blue plated mech crouched low and swept his leg out. The retaliation kick caught Dirge's shins and knocked him sideways, leaving Soundwave the opportunity to burst forward, his own arm reared back, tense, and ready to deliver a hard punch straight into Dirge's faceplates.

Dirge unleashed a low, vibrating frequency that immediately stimulated the self-preservation components of Soundwave's processor. Having never experienced Dirge's special ability, Soundwave was unprepared for the fear that swelled inside him. It made him falter before he could throw a mental block to counter the harmful frequency and he missed his mark. The telepath's vents loudly hitched and he collapsed onto his knees, breathing hard, visor unnaturally bright.

For the first time ever, Soundwave saw Dirge grin happily.

But he made himself stay still, trembling on his knees like one of those defenceless humans. He could hear the jeers from the others, though many were telling Dirge not to kill Soundwave. It wouldn't be fun if he perished so soon. As Dirge kept emitting the frequency of fear, Soundwave forced himself to look up at his former leader. Of course, Megatron knew what Soundwave was up to.

"Can't believe you got no blocks…" Dirge was saying. "Low on energy? Didn't think you'd go down so soon."

"You dense glitch! He's waiting for you to come closer!" someone yelled from the gathered ensemble.

Soundwave had mustered just enough will to create an elementary block. It gave him a limited window of opportunity, but it was sufficient to take Dirge by surprise. Soundwave concentrated, steeled his resolve, and pushed it hard against the fear that was churning inside his tanks like poison. He would have been doomed had he been any other mech but Shockwave had taught him well. The telepath's helm shot up and his mask retracted. This time he was the one grinning nastily, his sharp and pointed denta in full view to his opponent.

_I am going to frag you up_, the grin promised, _I am going to chew on your worthless chassis and spit you out like scrap_.

It was at that point that Dirge remembered that despite the perpetual blank demeanour, Soundwave was just as cracked in the processor as the rest of them. And because of that belated thought, Dirge made the mistake of hesitating.

"Soundwave: superior," Soundwave growled out. "Dirge: inferior!"

Yes, Dirge was faster because of his lighter weight but it proved to be hindrance at that very moment when Soundwave literally pounced on him. Dirge toppled backwards with a loud grunt. Soundwave's heavier bulk kept him pinned down and he finally aimed a well-placed punch against the pointed helm. He aimed a second one in quick succession, smashing the golden canopy of Dirge's chest so he could bang his fist over the plating right above the Seeker's spark to throw him into a temporary stun.

Soundwave was ready to take the energy he needed. And Dirge was going to provide it for him, willing or unwilling.

There was a deafening, furious roar from the crowd when a spray of mechblood splattered all over the place as Soundwave grabbed the main energy cable that lined the Seeker's thick neck strut and literally ripped the top end out. He buried his face into Dirge's neck, and latched his denta around the profusely leaking cable, forcefully sucking out the hot, rich liquid that poured into his mouth and down his throat tubing. The warning windows that had plagued him from the beginning of the fight steadily – _finally_! – faded away.

The brief moment of reprieve he'd been given was broken when Dirge managed to shriek, wildly pulsing out different frequencies of fear before forcing Soundwave off from him with an almighty shove. But the amount Soundwave took was enough to rejuvenate him, at least to bring his telepathy back online.

Megatron was seated in his chair with Starscream standing by his side. The warlord's optics were filled with malice and bloodlust but he made no inclination if he was even going to go through the trouble of fighting Soundwave himself. He leaned towards the Seeker. "If he gets enough energon to utilize his telepathy close to the normal levels then we will have to dispose of him no matter what. He is not getting out of the base alive." Megatron grabbed the closest part of Starscream's wing, twisting it painfully. "Understand?"

With a grimace, Starscream curtly nodded before Megatron released him. "Of course, sir. He will be hunted down."

Suddenly the air began to buzz with an electric charge, and Starscream braced himself as the ensuing warp hole forced a gush of hot air against his body. Skywarp appeared and he nodded once, his facial plates grim.

"We've looked everywhere and we can't find them," Skywarp said. "The Constructicons are mapping out a grid of the base from the last time they did to see if there are any changes. They're hard to find, sir. Though we have reason to suspect that the symbiotes may be on a lower deck close by."

"Of course they're close by, you idiot," Starscream snapped, crossing his arms over his cockpit. "Keep looking. Find them."

"Sir –" It was obvious how much Skywarp loathed calling Starscream 'sir' just by the disrespectful twist of his mouth. "– I'm not sure how much damage they could actually do from this far inside the ship," the purple and black mech said helplessly, his wings perked up in irritation. "I mean the little one has his sonics but I don't know how much use they'd –"

"Just fucking find them!" Megatron shouted and the suddenness forced Laserbeak off from his shoulder. "Bring them to me now so I can rip them to shreds before Soundwave's optics!"

"Yessir," Skywarp quickly rattled off, bowing hastily before he disappeared with a loud _snap! _

"Laserbeak! Ratbat! Don't just sit there like you've gained my favour already," Megatron continued to snarl and he cast a dark look at the both of them. "Help him find them!"

The two symbiotes had no choice but to obey. They soared over the large expanse of the makeshift arena below and Soundwave's dark visor tracked their path with accurate precision. Whether they flew directly over his helm because the exit was in a straight line behind him or whether to mock him was unknown. But one thing was clear to Ratbat and Laserbeak – their former Master was capable of holding one hell of a grudge and he would not hesitate on seeking his revenge should he survive after this.

Either way, Soundwave had defeated his first opponent and he stood with his gaze now settled defiantly upon Megatron while in the background, a bleeding Dirge was carted off by his trinemates.

"Wildrider!" Megatron announced. "Your turn!"

The summoned mech crowed with excitement, bouncing on his pedes like a loon acting as if he had already won the fight. But despite the projected overconfidence and arrogance, he was a dangerous enemy to have. No one wanted to fight a Stunticon… unless they wanted to deal with insanely strong force fields, insane speed and the plain insanity that came packaged with them.

All the basic preliminaries of a fight were bypassed completely – Wildrider just charged. He was fast and he was zigzagging all over the place with such randomness that Soundwave's tracking software was going mental with the path estimations. In fact, the only thing Soundwave _could_ safely predict was Wildrider's unpredictability.

The Decepticons cheered when Wildrider shouldered Soundwave in the chestplates and then caught him by the arm, spinning him around in a circle to gain momentum as if he was introducing the telepath to an extreme dance only he knew the steps to. Soundwave found himself thrown into the air in a wide arc and he crashed back down hard, sparks rising as he skidded across the uneven plating of the deck.

It hurt.

The faux glass of Soundwave's tapedeck was fractured but thankfully it was still in one piece and he knew it could take at least one more solid hit before fully shattering. At least he hoped it could. In a way, he was glad that his lasercore was located deeper in his internals.

Wildrider cawed with victory and the grin on his face was as savage as anything.

"C'mere!"

Just as a balled-up fist was going to smash into his face, Soundwave rolled to the side and ignored the needles that jabbed continuously up his circuits, shooting agony up his torso. The floor vibrated and clanged loudly when the Stunticon's fist impacted into it and Wildrider grunted, aggravated at his miss.

"Why won't you just _stand still _and let me hit you!"

Wildrider always did like to scream rhetorical nonsense at his opponents.

Soundwave made a grab for him but it was futile; he was instantly repelled by Wildrider's special force field, as if they were two magnets of the same polarity. An unpleasant buzz tingled up Soundwave's fingers and he scowled deeply, displeased with the fact that he'd have to rely exclusively on his mind powers to defeat the mech. His energy was limited as it was.

Soundwave could hear the others shouting for his demise.

"What's taking ya so long?"

"Bash him until he's scrap!"

"Tear the traitor's spark out!"

"No, tear his head off and send it to Prime!"

"Fuck him until he squeals!"

"Shut up!" Wildrider yelled back at them and he snapped his helm to snarl at the mass of shapes and sea of red optics. "Losin' concentration here!"

At least that gave Soundwave just enough time to stand up before Wildrider focused his attention back onto him. Wildrider attacked and Soundwave found himself purely on the defensive. All he could do was to avoid the attacks and he furiously cycled through the different settings of his optical feed that would help him find a weak point in that thrice-damned force field.

The others continued to jeer. "Kill the Autobot-fucker!"

He didn't want to use his telepathy, damn it. He wanted to save it for the stronger opponents.

And as Wildrider punched him hard in the face and dented his facemask, Soundwave belatedly recalled something very important about the Stunticons' force fields. It was a little fact that appeared in his vast memory banks and it sat there on the surface, in blind ridicule towards him for even daring to forget it.

"Hey! Finally decided to stop running away?" he barked out, laughing manically when Soundwave abruptly stopped in the middle of the designated arena.

"Come," Soundwave merely said. "Lose."

Wildrider's optics brightened and his mouth twisted in furious confusion. The insane laughter abruptly stopped, cut off as if someone had pulled out the power cord. And here, his reaction was truly predictable. His engine roared powerfully as he charged forward, veering to the left, and then jumping to the right. Such random, jerky movements were designed to inspire fear and inexperienced mechs would have panicked but Soundwave continued to just stand there, waiting. Quietly analysing.

On one pede Wildrider spun, ready to deliver a high kick straight into Soundwave. He did not expect Soundwave to catch his leg in mid-air. Wildrider snarled, bracing himself for Soundwave to toss him aside but there was a creak of metal when Soundwave tightened his grip on the shin plating and just _stared _at the Stunticon, as if expecting the other mech to make the first move. Wildrider jumped on one pede, trying to pull himself away but the telepath held fast.

"Soundwave: superior," Soundwave informed him. "Wildrider: inferior."

The armour lining Soundwave's legs on both sides flipped up, exposing a series of small speaker pods. His hand was already going numb from Wildrider's force field and he really couldn't hold on for long.

"Heh…" Wildrider nervously glanced down. "Whatcha gonna do? Play bad music?"

"Affirmative," Soundwave blandly answered.

The alleged 'bad music' turned out to be a burst of noise in ultra-high frequency. It shot through the force field as a soundless scream, and its precise wavelength resonate against the shield. It played the exact opposite pitch that Wildrider's emitter was putting out, in a constant repel and clash motion that agitated the deflective layer and forced the tightly-knit particles that kept its controlled shape to vibrate angrily. The more the emitter struggled to correct the shield's form, the more output it produced to the point where it overheated and began to malfunction.

"You fuckin—!"

Wildrider's scream of rage was cut off when Soundwave tore his neck cables out.

* * *

"Slag, slag, slag…fucking _slag!_"

Frenzy utilised a complicated series of body contortions involving a lot of bending and various states of half transformations just to get through the pipe he had wedged himself into. When his pede accidently banged against the interior of the pipe, the sound rang through the metal shaft like a condemning bell chiming his impending doom. The small Cassetticon cringed and clenched his fists, holding himself still as he lay there; body half hanging out of the rust-eaten mouth of that pipe. When there was no angry shouting or the thumping of big, heavy mechs rushing his way, Frenzy allowed himself a small sigh of relief.

His spark was a mess. It wasn't that Laserbeak and Ratbat were connected to him like sparkmates, or even as siblings but it was the sense of general loss and emptiness of losing something intimately familiar. The fact that it was betrayal just made things worse. Not to mention that he couldn't communicate with his twin over their own special bond…and that meant one thing. Rumble was in stasis and held prisoner.

Frenzy gritted his denta. He didn't know what to do but he knew one thing for certain – he had to save his Boss, save his brother and get the fuck out of there. He didn't want to die…not without Rumble anyway.

The small mech crept close to the wall, practically tip-toeing with his anti-gravs activated. He could hear activity in the distance.

It was Skywarp.

"Have you searched throughout the basement levels yet?" the teleporter's deep voice rang out.

There were a couple of lazy mumbles that replied to him - the mechs in question showing clear disinterest. A sharp noise sounded, along with a yelp. Skywarp must have been getting fed up.

"Search again you fucking idiots!" he yelled, and there were a couple of hasty noises of pedes clunking around before a small _pop_ signalled that Skywarp had warped away again, probably to check on another group.

"This is fucking ridiculous," another even deeper voice said, remarkably close.

Frenzy's spark pulsed frantically, his visor bright as he stilled himself, willing even his vents to quiet. He was caught. There was no way they'd miss him with infrared. Frenzy knew his body was hot. They would see him like a fire in the dark.

"Stupidly moronic," another mech replied, his gruff voice echoing off of the walls.

"This is going to turn into one giant mess, and I don't want a single part of it," Blitzwing replied, his voice curt as his heavy footsteps took him closer to the hallway Frenzy was in.

The pair of them laughed. "What am I talking about, of course I want to fuck with Megatron's plans."

_'Please let them pass,' _Frenzy thought desperately to himself, pressing close to the wall in the dark hallway.

"Hey, what's that?" Astrotrain suddenly said, and the pair of mechs halted.

Frenzy's spark sank and he looked around desperately, but there were no doors, no rooms to hide in, and the pipe he had just emerged from was now pointless to enter again. But despite everything, an irrational urge of hatred for Soundwave suddenly built up, threatening to boil over. This was Soundwave's fault. It was all_ his fucking fault! _

"Is that…?" Blitzwing trailed off.

Both of them stopped at the end of the hallway, blocking the light from the main passageway. A gun hummed to life, and Frenzy sat down on the floor, letting a hoarse laugh leave his vocalizer. The two Triplechangers approached, their alternative mode headlights lighting the hallway brilliantly.

"Yep," Blitzwing affirmed.

The two mechs stopped some distance away.

"What the fuck are ya lookin' at?" Frenzy snapped, glaring up at the two mechs cruelly. "Just fuckin' kill me."

Blitzwing and Astrotrain laughed at the frank outburst. Blitzwing came closer, his weapons powering down. He stooped over and seized Frenzy in his large hand, holding him like a doll.

"We've been looking for you," he said, squeezing the symbiote tightly.

"No fuckin' way smarts," Frenzy snapped back, grunting uncomfortably with the pain that assaulted his systems. "Ya two lumbering idiots never were the smartest mechs around."

"Listen," Blitzwing snapped, shaking the symbiote roughly. "An enemy of Megatron is a friend of ours. Hold still, and shut the fuck up and you may make it through this."

Just about as Frenzy was about to question just _what _the hell was going on, Frenzy found himself quickly being pushed towards a massive chestplate, where a panel slid back, and the Triplechanger stowed the small mech into his chestplates.

The door shut, and Frenzy shouted, banging on the metal for a few moments before he stopped. The small mech looked around desperately until he realized that Blitzwing had put him in his sparkling chamber. It was a hollow compartment that nearly all mechs and femmes retained close to their fuelling system and it was geared to carry young sparklings around. The fit was tight and cramped, but the Triplechanger was a massive mech as it was and as he looked over, Frenzy noticed a small nib towards the back – a dead giveaway. Frenzy quickly rushed over to prod at the small piece, rubbing on it to stimulate it to produce energon. After a few quick strokes a small drop of energon appeared at the end, and with vigorous rubbing more began to leak out. Frenzy eagerly lapped it up, feeling the potent energon give his body a powerful charge.

"Easy with that," he heard Blitzwing growl.

With his subspace still activated, Frenzy pulled out a small container, which cramped his small space even more, and rubbed at the nib eagerly, sucking, and lapping around the tip until it was freely dripping the nanite rich energon used to nurture sparklings into the small cube. When it was almost full, Frenzy sealed the cube and shoved it back into his subspace. The only way Blitzwing would have allowed Frenzy inside of such an intimate place was if he was actually telling the truth. Not only that, but the small symbiote had the opportunity to severely harm the Triplechanger in here.

Frenzy panted, but at least now he would have energon. Not only that, with Blitzwing's immense bulk and heat, he would be almost impossible to spot.

"Fuckin' brute aren't ya," Frenzy said to himself, but he knew that the Triplechanger would hear him anyway. The carrying chamber was comfortable, its heat regulated to match what the occupant needed. "Where are ya takin' me? I gotta get to Soundwave. Hey!" he snapped, banging his fist against the inner chamber. "I gotta go find him! What's going on?" Frenzy could only feel what was coming from Soundwave's part of the bond, and the emotions were so strong they were hard to pick apart.

"Your slut of a master has been off fucking Autobots," Blitzwing intoned, smacking his fist against his own chestplate to get the little symbiote to settle down. "He's in the ring right now fighting. If you want to survive you should flee the ship as soon as you can."

"No," Frenzy said sharply, his tiny claws digging into the reinforced plating inside Blitzwing. "Take me to the arena. Or near it. _Please_," the little mech said desperately.

Blitzwing turned to exchange a glance with Astrotrain, who was still striding alongside him with an amused expression on his face.

"What the hell," Astrotrain said, shrugging once. "Wouldn't it be hilarious if we actually managed to accomplish something?"

The large mechs seemed to both find this particularly funny and they broke into throaty chortles, ignoring the dulled voice from inside Blitzwing's carrying chamber.

"Alright you little shit," Blitzwing said, suddenly changing direction.

The force of it caused Frenzy to be squashed against the inner chamber wall, and he cursed, rubbing his helm.

"You stu—" Frenzy started, but he was cut off when Blitzwing savagely smacked the outer chamber's lid, and the symbiote knew very well to silence himself.

In the distance, he could barely hear a voice, but it was very recognizable.

"Did you find anything?" Starscream asked, his pedes taking him closer to the pair of Triplechangers.

Frenzy stilled completely. Moment of truth.

"Nah," Astrotrain answered for the pair. "We've been lookin' everywhere but you know those little shits are hard to find. Have you checked to see if Motormaster isn't keeping one in his valve? I'm sure it's one of the roomiest places on base."

The Triplechangers broke into renewed chortles and Frenzy could feel the impatience radiating off of Starscream, even though he couldn't see him.

"Just find him!" Starscream snapped, and his tone held a note of urgency.

"Aw Screamer, what can one little symbiote do?" Blitzwing spoke up.

"More than you think," Starscream replied coldly

Frenzy was suddenly jerked to the side as Starscream roughly shouldered past Blitzwing. The resounding clang of Frenzy smacking into the side of Blitzwing's carrying chamber rang out and Starscream stopped dead, turning around to look at the pair.

"You—" Starscream started.

"You pushed me into Astrotrain," Blitzwing interjected coolly.

Starscream opened his mouth to speak, but the large mechs had already started to walk away. Blitzwing turned his helm slightly to give Starscream a mysterious smile over his shoulder before falling in step behind Astrotrain.

In short succession they arrived near the cargo bay - the screams and jeers were easy to hear. Out in the hallway though, there was nobody. Everybody must've been inside waiting to tear after Soundwave. After looking around, Blitzwing opened his chassis again and grabbed Frenzy in his hand, lifting his fist up and raising the tiny mech to the ceiling, where he easily pushed up a vent and deposited the symbiote like nothing had ever happened. Then without any more preamble, the large pair of mechs continued on down the hallway, nudging each other and joking like they always did.

A few scant moments later, the shadows shifted to reveal Ravage's dark, sleek form. The four-legged symbiote bundled up the corridor to follow the air shaft's path and he melded in again with the darkness as if he was never there.

* * *

Soundwave was proving to be quite an unpleasant surprise to many of his former subordinates, especially the lower-ranked ones, because many had not actually seen him _fight _before. It was a curious enigma, considering their constant battles with the Autobots in a war that seemed never-ending, but Soundwave had always seemed the sort to prefer orchestrating events from the side lines, preferring his technological mods and symbiotes. But he turned out to be skilled in unarmed combat and he dealt his blows with the underhanded, viciousness of a warrior who had no honour.

Brawl was slow but powerful, and his mind was a stronghold. But he wasn't immune to Soundwave's telepathic hits. Though he could withstand the individual jolts themselves, Soundwave kept throwing them in quick succession and the cumulative damage would leave the Combaticon reeling – giving Soundwave a big enough window to lash out. But Brawl refused to fall and it was obvious that Soundwave was trying to use his own speed against Brawl's much larger frame.

"You haven't found the little twerps, have you?" Megatron spat out the moment Starscream landed onto the raised platform he was watching the proceedings from.

"No, not yet my Lord, but I assure you that it won't be long now. They'll be boxed in and plucked out like the parasites they are," Starscream quickly assured, wisely keeping a fair distance from his leader for the time being.

"Two contestants, Starscream. This includes Brawl," Megatron warned, intently watching the match below and not sparing his second in command a glance. "If you haven't found them by then, then _you'll_ be the third contestant. Understood?"

Starscream scowled and glared mutinously at the back of Megatron's helm. But he couldn't stop himself from looking down at the two mechs fighting and his optics gravitated on Soundwave in particular. The telepath was carefully circling around a loudly roaring Brawl like a serpent planning out its next strike. He was filthy; his frame badly scraped up, dented and his shattered chestplates were painted in a multicolour display of various liquids; from the pale ochre of hydraulic fluid, the washed out hues of coolant to the darkened splatters of mechblood. The shape of Brawl's large fingers…and others… ran all along his plating from where he had been grabbed, up from his arms and down to his interface panel from where there had been an attempt to wrench it off.

And now the traitor held his arms up at his waist, poised and tense, blood-stained hands spread out, ready to attack. Soundwave must have had his fingers modified because they were longer than was practically necessary, with his claws extended into sharp, lethal points….though some of the fingertips had already been broken off. Starscream knew exactly what Soundwave was capable of and he didn't want to imagine the thought of those wicked claws tearing through his wings.

"Yes, my Lord," the Seeker conceded after a surly pause.

"I want the other runt brought over," Megatron ordered. "I think Soundwave needs a little more…_inspiration_."

"Oh…" Starscream's mouth twisted briefly into a poisonous smile. "But of course."

He pivoted on his thruster heel, ready to fly off the platform but when the crowd abruptly fell strangely silent, Starscream turned back to see what had happened. Brawl was bellowing like a predator on its last legs, falling down to his knees with his own hands desperately clutching at his helm.

"Get out of my fucking head!" he screamed, and the red in his visor burned so bright that it began to appear pink. "You're dead! Stop staring at me like that! I terminated you! I watched you die!"

Starscream let out a hiss. "He's gotten into his processor and using Brawl's memory cells against him."

Megatron slammed his hands on the arms of his throne and leaned forward, angrily trying to assess the situation. "_What_. Is that even possible?"

The mechs crowded around the arena shifted, agitated and restless and Soundwave slowly took a step forward. He was facing Brawl, his body stiff and his servos trembling from the amount of concentration he was pouring into his mind manipulation.

"You didn't know what _treasure_—" Starscream spat out the word disgustedly as he gestured at the arena, "—you had under you?" He placed his hands on his hips and sniggered. "I am amazed! If you had utilised Soundwave like you were _meant to, _oh fine and observant leader, then perhaps you would have been more successful in your campaigns."

But Megatron wasn't amused at Starscream ridiculing him and he made it apparent by aiming his fusion cannon at the Seeker. "Since you have time to criticise," he purred out dangerously, "how about I send you down there after Brawl, hmm? See if you can utilise your criticism against him."

"My liege," Starscream gritted out, optics nervously flitting down at the arena. "I suggest you pull out Brawl before Soundwave fuels himself on his energon and allow me to fetch the runt."

"Then get to it," Megatron sniped before he shouted down at his subjects. "Onslaught! You're next! And don't forget to retrieve your useless teammate."

The crowd thundered their discontent but Megatron had called off the match just in time, indirectly saving Hook the effort of reattaching Brawl's neck cables. Soundwave at this point snarled out a noise of static and frustration at being deprived his kill; he had exhausted a large amount of energy to actually trapping Brawl in his own personal hell of memories and it was all for naught.

Soundwave shouted up at the pedestal. "My quick expiration: your entertainment cut short!"

"Trying to prolong the inevitable?" Megatron drawled as he threw a cold glance down at Soundwave. He leaned back in his large throne, looking quite unconcerned. "Well, it's not as if you'll last long, you treacherous little whore."

Hastily, Soundwave diverted his attention away from Megatron, and he observed his latest opponent step past the containment field and into the arena. Onslaught returned his gaze calmly and tilted his helm to the side.

"I really have no interest in fighting you," Onslaught stated quietly, "but I'll terminate you if I must."

"You have no obligation towards Megatron," Soundwave replied.

"It's not him I'm obligated towards."

Soundwave understood. The Combaticons were renegades, suspended in stasis form without bodies for so long and their liberator had been Starscream, not Megatron.

Nonetheless, the crowd was becoming impatient and Onslaught didn't dispense any more pleasantries than he needed to. He swung his arm around, his massive hand balling into a fist and aiming for Soundwave's faceplates. The telepath nimbly avoided the would-be punch but he didn't expect the Combaticon leader to use himself as a pivot and rotate around, thus bringing his other fist up with the added momentum. Soundwave stumbled back from the heavy hit where it had caught him in the abdomen and he doubled over from the pain of his internals jostling out of place.

When Onslaught came for him again, Soundwave barely had time to dodge. But Onslaught doggedly persisted; using a methodical, steady pace to time his hits. He wasn't fast or unpredictable as Wildrider but he wasn't as slow as Brawl. And given how exhausted Soundwave was, Onslaught wasn't giving the telepath any time to concentrate on unleashing any mental attacks.

"Soundwave!" Megatron called.

He instinctively looked up when he heard his name. On the pedestal, Megatron was grinning malevolently and next to him, Starscream was holding Rumble up on display for Soundwave to see. The Cassetticon was gagged with a metal plate cruelly bolted onto the sides of his helm and his arms were stasis cuffed together, keeping him effectively immobile. Rumble's vulnerability swelled in Soundwave's spark at their close proximity and the two missing symbiotes who betrayed them only seemed to amplify that presence even further.

"Call in the rest of your pests," Megatron demanded.

Starscream jammed one null-ray into the side of Rumble's helm. "I trust you know what I'm implying here," he added with a sneer.

Although he couldn't speak, the plea in the small mech's dim visor was clear.

_Help me._

Soundwave cared deeply for his symbiotes. They were in essence, a part of him. He considered them _his_;his servants, his soldiers, sometimes lovers, and sometimes companions. He looked after them and in return, they served him in every aspect. The sight of one of his twins threatened by that arrogant prostitute of a Seeker was enough to fuel his tired body with unadulterated anger.

"Release Rumble," Soundwave said instead.

"Contact your pests," Megatron silkily reiterated. "I might even let them live."

It was a lie and they both knew it. Soundwave could see it in the way Megatron was smirking.

"Communication between symbiotes: blocked. Unable to connect," Soundwave replied. Then he paused for effect and added, "_Megatron_."

The deliberate lack of honorific had Megatron's smirk twist with displeasure for it was the first time Soundwave had ever called him by _just_ his name. "Have it your way then," Megatron rasped out and he took a step back into the shadows, towards his throne. "I'll keep all of you alive long enough to watch each other die."

He wanted to wreak havoc upon everyone around him.

* * *

The quickening of Optimus' spark pulse hadn't been much of a concern for Ratchet at first. He'd merely looked the sedated Autobot over and slowed his energon drip slightly. If he was finding enough energy to get excited, it was too much energon and he didn't need it, simple as that.

"How is he doing?" a voice said.

Ratchet looked up from where he was seated in his chair next to the large, prone form. The medic had an arc welder in one hand and bits of tubing in the other. Most of the extensive internal repairs on Prime been finished already and there were just a few commonly replaced hoses that needed a change and some fine tuning. Then would come the long and tedious job of remaking Prime's plating.

Ratchet wiped at his face and set the items he was holding back down onto a small tray. "His repairs are going extremely well. He is built from high quality stuff so less was damaged than I thought…after I do some general maintenance and a systems flush, he should be ready to go. He'll probably even feel a bit better than before because I've removed some scar tissue that had been building on his protoform in several places."

Prowl winced at 'systems flush' but he did little else to give away any emotion. "Excellent. Do you have a general time frame?"

Ratchet shrugged, his irritation barely hidden. "Whenever I get him done. I don't know. A day, two days, three days if something comes up."

Prowl turned curtly on his heel and left, the medbay doors sliding shut behind him.

The CMO sighed before he drew out a pair of forceps and crimped a live energon line located in Prime's arm. "I get no respect around here. I'm the only general surgeon the Autobots have and no one gives a shit. I deserve some more—" a harsh grating sound was heard, and Ratchet twisted his hand around as a sudden gushing wound developed from an energon line, "—goddamn respect," he finally finished. The fluid from the wound slowly dripped to a stop, as if Ratchet was in no hurry of mending it. Instead he cut the tube out and fitted another in its place.

Warm arms enveloped him from behind, and Ratchet barely resisted the urge to flinch. A hot body pressed up against his, humming with heat, and Ratchet didn't even need to look to see who it was.

Especially because one arm was _distinctly _handless.

The stub rubbed against his chassis while the other hand caressed his chestplate. Ratchet's optics narrowed and his mood instantly went sour. Charred metal and burnt rubber wafted up into his olfactory sensor, but the medic refused to turn and look at the mask that was nuzzling the side of his head.

"Um, baby?" Wheeljack said, and he didn't even have the tact to sound sheepish anymore. "I was wonderin' if you could reattach my hand soon. I'm pretty busy and I really need your help."

Ratchet turned his head and his optics were like beams of penetrating ice. He even growled.

"At your _leisure _of course," the chief science officer hastily added.

Ratchet said nothing in reply for several long moments, fiddling with the wiring in Optimus' arm. "So what's the story this time?" he asked.

Wheeljack held up the stump of his arm, and it was clear that his hand had been cut clean off. "Got too close to a high powered laser. It wasn't my fault though! Skyfire thought that I'd said it was okay to turn it on."

"Primus, you're an idiot," Ratchet snapped, jerking his elbow up to catch Wheeljack sharply in his side. The mech made a pained noise and backed away, his audial finials flashing a sad, blue colour.

"Take a seat," Ratchet said, motioning widely over his shoulder with one of his red hands covered in mechblood.

But Wheeljack didn't, and instead he moved closer, slinging his arms around Ratchet's neck. He slid his facemask back and kissed his lover's helm, staring at the prone form of Optimus Prime lying out in front of them. "So what all happened to him? I've only heard rumours," Wheeljack said.

The CMO grunted and shrugged his shoulder. "It's classified for the moment. All I can say is that it's a thrilling story."

Wheeljack made a noise and drew his hand over the seams of Ratchet's chest, knowing where they split to reveal his spark underneath. "Yeah. There's a lot of mechs wondering what the hell is going on. But they seem pretty calm, despite that. Prowl's a good leader. He really knows what he's doing." The engineer's hand reached lowered, and his systems started running just a little harder.

"Stop it," Ratchet said half-heartedly. "I'm working."

"I know… I love watching you work. It makes me hot," Wheeljack muttered in reply, and Ratchet turned his head so they could kiss.

Suddenly the monitors next to Prime's head started blaring, and both Wheeljack and Ratchet jerked away in surprise. Ratchet set down the tools he was holding and stood up, bringing up a holo-display. Prime's spark pulse had quickened even _more _and his energy levels were rapidly being depleted at the same time.

Ratchet gaped at the stats with his mouth open. "M-Machine must be faulty," he stuttered.

"Ridiculous," Wheeljack said, peering at the data himself. "I just did maintenance on these machines a few days ago. They're in top shape!"

Ratchet scrambled around, at a loss of what to do. There were clamps that could give a jolt of energy to a spark when they were in danger of dying out, but there was nothing Ratchet could do for a spark that was spiralling out of control. You couldn't sedate a spark.

The only option was to put Optimus in stasis, but that was a generally dangerous practice that was often used as a last resort for severe wounds. Putting a mech in stasis meant powering down _everything _and the spark dimmed as well, only surviving off of a small amount of energy that all Cybertronians had the ability to create themselves, usually by outside means unless they were equipped with a high efficiency charge pack. Few were. Solar energy, heat energy, hydrogen, and several other things were ways of the getting the self-sustaining energy. It was dangerous, and a lot of mechs died if left too long in stasis.

Ratchet's hands felt all over Prime's spark and around the Matrix, checking to make sure there weren't any holes or cracks, or any wires or springs that were unnecessarily irritating the spark.

"What are you going to do!" Wheeljack questioned, his voice rising just above the sound of the blaring alerts.

Ratchet's hands were shaking and his blue optics were quickly darting around the room, looking for something to give him ideas. "I… I've got to bring him up from sedation. Something to counteract the drugs I've been giving him," Ratchet said.

He flew across the room and pulled open a drawer, nearly sending it off of its tracks. He fervently searched through the drawer, bending over to reach way in the back to pull out a tiny vial. Ratchet tipped it upside down and pressed a needle in through the top, drawing in the clear fluid with the stopper until it was full.

The CMO walked back over to Prime with an unreadable expression on his face and pressed the needle into one of the prominent tubes on Prime's neck, slowly pushing the stopper down until all of it had been injected directly into Optimus' systems. Several tense minutes passed, and Ratchet had to turn his audios down because the screeching of the machines was hurting his head.

Prime suddenly jerked up in his restraints, giving a soundless cry as his mouth worked open, his blue optics unseeing, and he screamed "Soundwave!" in such a thunderous voice that it shook Ratchet to his core.

"Not so classified anymore," Wheeljack said wryly.

* * *

It burned from the inside out like the fiery firestorms of the pit.

Soundwave could feel it, that horrible foreign presence in his spark infusing him with ancient power. But it didn't invigorate him, oh no the Matrix never gifted anyone without a price in return. It pulsed through the bond it had forced upon him and spread through his lines and circuits, searing pathways into his body. This was the new increase in capacity he had felt previously; the ability to call upon the Matrix's strength via the link he shared with his bondmate.

He began to tremble, unable to stop himself.

With a black fury that didn't originate from him, Soundwave kicked Onslaught, and Onslaught practically _flew _backwards_. _The Combaticon yelped out in pain and surprise when he hit the containment barrier and he remained suspended briefly in the air as his body convulsed against the barrier's electrical field. He then collapsed into a crumbled, groaning heap.

Was this what fuelled Optimus Prime each and every cycle of his existence as the Matrix-bearer? The Matrix was not kind, and it was far from benevolent. Soundwave lurched violently, helm jerking to the side and he dimly wondered how Prime managed to deal with the cacophony of all the dead Primes, bitter with their untimely demise and disjointed with too much knowledge from too many minds and lifecycles of mechs all twisted together in the Matrix's primeval subconscious. It was maddening.

"That's more like it…" Megatron muttered to himself. "I enjoy it when they fight all that harder just before their termination."

Starscream pursed his small mouth and he frowned. "He's changed."

However Megatron was too busy gloating to notice anything else. But the crowd sensed the difference in Soundwave's posture, close enough to sense the telepath's energy field rolling like turbulent waves of a rising ocean. Onslaught had recovered fast enough to bulldoze Soundwave to the side. Both mechs fell with a loud _clank _and they wrestled fiercely until Onslaught managed to pin Soundwave to the floor with his much heavier bulk.

"It's a pity you know," Onslaught began conversationally. "Having a competent warrior like yourself offline like this." He grunted as Soundwave struggled beneath him but Onslaught was more than strong enough to keep a firm grip on the telepath's arm. "I'm curious though. _Why_?"

"Megatron has lost sight of our cause," Soundwave hissed into the dirty surface of the deck.

"Yes we know that. But that's not my question."

Soundwave didn't warrant him with a proper explanation so Onslaught tightened his hold on the back of the other mech's helm and smashed his faceplates onto the deck with a sickening crunch of metal. Again Soundwave made no sound and Onslaught repeated his action. Soundwave's vents were stuttering and with each coarse heave, Soundwave's distorted laughter accompanied it.

Onslaught paused and cocked his head to one side, his own expression unreadable behind his mask and visor. "Finally cracked?"

When he received no further answer, Onslaught opted to injure Soundwave's arm instead. He rotated the limb past what Soundwave's shoulder joint could take and gave it a brutal, quick twist. Soundwave's resounding shriek had a thin, ugly quality to it and it had the Decepticons wince from the very sound of it.

"I ask again – why _Prime_," Onslaught insisted.

A wall of hot air surrounded them, expelled from their labouring systems and Soundwave's body was overexerting itself especially, given the abysmal condition he was in. He could have forced Onslaught off from him with his mind power but one half of his cpu was reacting negatively against the Matrix's unwanted presence. He could _feel_ Optimus Prime somewhere in the edge of his spark, and the Autobot was equally as lost and antagonistic as he was. _True_ bondmates would have reached out to each other, supported each other with everything in their disposal. But not with their case; Prime was too bitter, Soundwave was too proud and the Matrix between them was like a pair of shackles made out of acid.

"Prime: such a better fuck than Megatron," Soundwave wheezed and there was no mistaking the smugness in his monotone or the derisive light in one amber optic that stared up at Onslaught from behind his broken visor.

It was then that Soundwave managed to break free by using a combination of physical and mental attacks. Onslaught recoiled, forced to release his hold and Soundwave used the moment to roll onto his back and crush the flat of his pede against the Combaticon's abdomen to propel him back. Somehow though, Soundwave's statement had travelled straight up to Megatron's audios and it even had Starscream's mouth twitch, as if the Seeker was undecided whether he should be repulsed or amused.

Megatron was livid and with a snarl, he ripped Rumble from Starscream's hands. The symbiote was terrified, his visor flickering from fear and he dangled like a marionette by his winglets from the warlord's massive fist. The other hand hooked into the armour seams lining the smaller mech's chestplates, claws wrenching the barely discernable gaps wider, misshaping the metal until Megatron literally tore one third of Rumble's chestplate away from his chassis. Gagged and bound as he was, Rumble was unable to make any noise but the agony was clearly written on his face.

"Was he worth going against me?" Megatron roared and he was so, so angry. Nothing else could be heard save for his voice bearing down onto all of them. "Tell me, you wretched slut!" He then flung the jagged piece of Rumble's chestplate straight down at the arena where it bounded off the electrical barrier, its mass too light to pass through it. "I'll make sure you die in agony for even _daring _to betray me and your fucking little pests will suffer along with you!"

The ripped wires in Soundwave's dislocated shoulder sparked and fluids streamed down the loosely-hanging limb. But it was nothing compared to the sparks that emanated from Rumble's exposed torso and the inner components that glistened wetly from the leaking mechblood and coolant. The Cassetticon was thrown uncaringly onto the deck of the pedestal and he could do nothing but lay there waiting for his inevitable death as Megatron raised his fusion cannon. But after a moment of contemplation, Megatron allowed his arm to drop.

"Starscream!" he barked. "Use your null ray. Aim for the spark."

The Seeker barely flinched from the harshness of his leader's voice and obeyed instantly, since he held no love for the symbiote lying pathetically before their pedes. He fired a shot and watched maliciously as Rumble's body seized in a stiff arc before he lost consciousness. At such close range, not only would his null ray deactivate Rumble's electrical systems but without the protective chest armour, the blast was powerful enough to cleave a charred, blackened hole through the protoform that lay above his spark.

"He's still alive…for now," Starscream cackled, tipping his helm at the arena to address Soundwave. The winged mech delicately prodded the gravely injured mech with the tip of his pede, as if he had found something unsavoury on the ground that was blocking his way. "But the poor thing must be in so much pain," he continued mockingly. "And who knows how long it'll take for him to expire. Maybe if you die quickly enough, I'll be kind enough to put him down for you." Starscream's attractive mouth curled with a cold smile. "For old time's sake of course."

Soundwave didn't think. He couldn't, not with Rumble teetering on the edge of death. Not with his other remaining symbiotes hiding somewhere in the ship, no doubt shattered themselves. He didn't hesitate when he reached deep inside his core and grabbed the wavering tendrils of the Matrix that permeated his spark. Without mercy, he pulled them up to the surface of his cortex, threw open his bond with Optimus Prime and when the Matrix sensed his desperate need to accept its deal for power, it willingly pushed itself forward until he began to scream. His vocaliser shorted out and yet he still screamed. It was like he was being empowered and burdened simultaneously.

The sonic scream Soundwave was releasing reverberated around the cargo bay, its impressive wavelengths vibrating against every corner. It shorted out the mechanism controlling the force field and left the barrier sputtering infectively before vanishing completely. While it freed him, it also left him defenceless against all the Decepticons who wanted a piece of him. But Soundwave would not relent and he continued to scream; every audio emitter in his body pounding the air with the power he did not have and yet somehow managed to pour into courtesy of the Matrix.

The light fixtures burst into million, glittering pieces above them, leaving the enormity of the cargo bay plunging into darkness and as it turned out, no one could near Soundwave in the state he was. It was like Frenzy utilising his sonic weapons and perhaps because of his small stature, the symbiote could be defeated if one was patient and tactical enough to do so…but this was an unfathomable increase that none of them could neutralise.

Megatron was yelling but all Starscream could see were his lips drawn tightly over the large fangs and his mouth moving soundlessly. He himself was forced to cut out all input from his audio receivers lest the scream literally tore itself through his processor. His wings quivered unpleasantly as they reacted to the sound vibrations and he gestured animatedly at Megatron before deciding enough was enough. Soundwave had to be stopped so Starscream pointed his null ray at the telepath, determined to make that infernal racket stop. Next to him, Megatron was doing the same.

At first Starscream thought that the shaking underneath his thrusters was a result of the Soundwave's still on-going sonic attack. When the emergency light strips kicked in, Starscream gawked stupidly as a raging torrent of water surged into the cargo bay. He staggered forward, staring wildly at the entrance where the river of saltwater was flooding in from. While blast doors had automatically activated to stem the flow, it was obvious that the runaway Cassettes – likely Frenzy – must have tampered with the primary underwater airlock.

Amongst the chaos, Buzzsaw swooped in with his Master's signature concussion blaster held in his sharp talons. How he had retrieved it was a mystery upon itself but it was in Soundwave's waiting arms that he deposited the weapon. Soundwave flipped the rarely-used switch that set it to rapid charge and immediately aimed at Onslaught. The resulting blast was less powerful than usual, but it was enough to put the mech out of commission.

Soundwave managed a weak, triumphant grin underneath his badly dented mask – he was back in business.

Many mechs had activated their anti-gravs, eager to get out of the rush of the water and not caring about anyone else but themselves. In the meantime, Starscream was already up in the air, screeching at the Constructicons to fix the leak. The sonic scream had left a residual ringing in their audios which made all noise around them indistinguishable. It wasn't as if their optics weren't capable of differentiating objects in the din and murkiness of their surroundings but with so many large mechs rushing around trying to get out of the _organic _water, the situation had degenerated to bedlam.

"Plug that fragging thing up before we lose the base!"

Soundwave's time was limited and he was momentarily forgotten by all but his former leader – his former Master. Megatron was determined not to let him escape and with those hellish optics murderously fixed onto his own former third-in-command, Rumble was still sprawled out on the pedestal forgotten. Soundwave tightened his grip on his weapon when he caught a glimpse of Frenzy and Ravage slinking in from one of the panels embedded in the walls and the very sight of it renewed his fortitude to survive. He owed it to the symbiote that was currently dying, all because of his mistakes.

Even though Laserbeak had cut off all ties to Soundwave, he could still sense him. Soundwave snarled, spite twisting his spark. Laserbeak was circling around above him but Soundwave knew his former symbiote too well. He knew when Laserbeak was preparing to attack him, the exact moment and he only feigned his own counter attack because he saw Buzzsaw dive in from the corner of his optic. Laserbeak screeched when his symbiotic twin tore into his wing and he dropped like a stone into the water.

But Soundwave never felt what it was like to have the destructive nature of Megatron's fusion cannon aimed directly at him but there was always a first time. He skimmed over the water level, his damaged limbs burning with fatigue, and too much power fed by the Matrix and Megatron was relentless, firing blast after blast at him. A couple had even scoured past his plating, leaving blackened lines on his once pristine paintwork but he couldn't afford to pay them any heed.

Somewhere in the background, the klaxon started to blare the moment the blast doors slammed down at the entrance. Someone had activated the cargo bay airlock.

"_Why is that opening_? Stop it!"

"It won't!"

"Use the override you imbecile!"

"It's not working!"

"You fools! Don't let him—!"

Ravage's jaws clamped down around Megatron's wrist, distracting him for the few precious moments Soundwave needed to catapult off a support column and propel himself into the air. His pedes landed with an echoing _clang _onto the pedestal, just in time to hear Ravage's pained whimper when Megatron crushed him head first onto the seat of his throne. Then Megatron slowly straightened to his full, imposing height and the expression on his face morphed into hateful disbelief when he recognised the Matrix's unique energy signature mixed in with Soundwave's.

"Die," Megatron said simply.

Perhaps Megatron was too horrified by what he had discovered to articulate any other insult and at that precise second, he didn't need to express the sheer loathing he felt for Soundwave – the burning red in his optics portrayed that well enough. In the end, neither of them fired the first shot…Frenzy did. The symbiote's single, blasphemous blast hit Megatron's thick armour and at the same time, Soundwave fired his own dual but equally as blasphemous shots; one using his concussion rifle and the other using his mental abilities. Overwhelmed by the three simultaneous shots, Megatron stumbled backwards and though it seemed as if time had slowed around them, it truly hadn't. The water level had risen so rapidly that the pedestal shook from the very force of it and it caused him to lose balance. He fell in with an almighty splash.

"Hurry!" Frenzy hissed, making frantic movements as he stood guard by his brother's comatose body. "Let's get the fuck out of here!"

Soundwave didn't wait to see whether Megatron was going to rise up from the water like a bad nightmare and frankly he didn't want to find out. He scooped up Rumble from the floor with his good arm – somehow managing to balance both symbiote and blaster together – and pressed him against his chest. It alarmed him just how weak Rumble's spark pulsed against his own broken chestplates.

By the time the water reached the ceiling, Soundwave and his symbiotes had already swum out of the _Nemesis's _flooded cargo bay. Blitzwing lazily watched Buzzsaw shoot past him and the avian symbiote left a heated wash of water and a fountain of bubbles in the wake of his thrusters. The massive Triplechanger was practically basking underwater, floating quite happily outside the ship's hull just where the maw of the airlock gaped open.

"Yo Astroboy," he comm'ed to his fellow Triplechanger and smirked when an unsuspecting fish swam close to his face, lured in by the glow of his optics. He jerked his helm forward just to watch it dart away.

"_Slag it, don't call me that_!" A pause. "_There, line encrypted. Did they manage to escape_?_"_

"Yah they did. First time I ever saw ole' Sounders swim that fast." Blitzwing glanced around him and balked when he thought he saw the gaudy colours of a Constructicon or two swimming towards him. Not wanting to be roped into any repair work, Blitzwing fired up his own thrusters to low power and turned the opposite way. "You disabled the exterior cameras right?" he asked over the line. "Dun want dear leader or his screechy mistress finding out that it was me who manually activated the cargo bay's airlock."

Astrotrain purred. "_Why? You always look so sexy fighting in a ring…_"

"Cut it out and see if the washracks are empty. Salt's already making my circuits itch."

"_No can do. Megatron's screamin' the place down. You better get your aft in here quick before he notices you're missing._"

Blitzwing visibly slumped. He couldn't very well turn back to the Constructicons now and beg them for work without making them suspicious with his out-of-character offer of generosity. Anything was better than being around a psychopathically furious Megatron.

"Fuck."

"_Haha I'm having so much fun_," Astrotrain chortled, completely oblivious to Blitzwing's predicament. "_Megs just punched 'Screamer in the face. Classic stuff, I tell ya_."

* * *

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	8. Chapter 8

Chapter eight

* * *

FFF- so many of you left nice lengthy reviews for the later chapter. I was so surprised and delighted to read all of them! And because of the awesome ass reviews, you've kicked us into gear and we've put out another chapter quicker than ever! Thank you guys, I love you~

To everyone who left a review in the last chapter, we appreciate it, and you know who you are~

* * *

"Help him," Frenzy screamed at Soundwave. "Help him! Help him!"

The small symbiote had his tiny servos latched into Soundwave's plating and was trying to pull the much larger mech out of the sea. Soundwave stumbled further up the wet sand and the flaps of his vents opened fully to release a large, forceful spray of water. He then fell onto his knees with Rumble still held against his chest.

"Arm," Soundwave managed to say. "Malfunctioned. Dislocated."

"Fucking shit," Frenzy swore and as usual he preferred the local language in expressing how he really felt. "Okay. I dun have piledrivers so I'm gonna have to do this manually."

Frenzy may have been strong for his size but he wasn't strong enough. Soundwave arched his back with a hiss from the pain the moment Frenzy grabbed hold of his arm to give it a sharp push. The joints connected only half-way, and the gears sat misaligned against each other. But he could move it, albeit very jerkily. Buzzsaw's shadow passed over them and Soundwave knew that he had to stabilise Rumble and then get away from there fast. Megatron wasn't going to give him a head start.

"He's gonna live, ain't he?" Frenzy demanded and he shoved himself in close to see what was going on. "Yer gonna fix him, ain't ya?"

Finally, Soundwave relaxed the hold he had around Rumble so he could assess the damage.

"New destination: Autobot territory," Soundwave said, his voice barely above a whisper.

The Matrix had already retreated from his spark, and the link that stretched between him and Optimus felt like a long stretch of road that had been destroyed on both ends. He didn't think twice when he pushed aside the broken glass of his own chestplates, reaching in deep into his own internals to disconnect one of the thick tubes that was latched onto his lasercore. It was a shock to his system, but more of a dull zap that shot through his spark. Soundwave connected that tube to the open cavity of Rumble's damaged chest. He could feel the drain already from his damaged symbiote's body.

"Soundwave?" Frenzy questioned.

"No time. We need to leave now. Canyon in Ark's perimeter: safe location."

He ached horribly as he tried to stand up and wondered whether he'll be able to remain online long enough to make it there.

"Here. Yer gonna need this."

Soundwave looked down. Frenzy was sullenly holding a small cube full of energon.

* * *

"I think Decepticons—" Jazz's communication suddenly cut out with a fuzz of static.

Prowl stepped up closer to the monitor and tapped at the connection switch, trying to figure out what had gone wrong. Blaster made a noise from the back of the room and the screen fizzled black for a moment, and Jazz came into view for a few seconds before it went blank, the noise screeching unpleasantly.

"We're being jammed by someone," Blaster duly and unhelpfully informed his commander, shrugging his shoulders as he worked the command console.

Blaster's chestplates were open, hardwired into the module, while his Cassettes went to and fro to correlate the many cords connecting him to the console. Prowl thought he looked odd, but he spoke nothing of it. Wasn't his business how telepaths went about theirs.

"Should we send backup?" Silverbolt asked from beside him.

Prowl didn't make any motions for several minutes except for rubbing at his chin with his forefinger and thumb. His optics were calculative and cool.

"Sir?" Silverbolt asked, his posture straightening as he gazed in concern, his hand motioning to the screen. "Perhaps we should ask for Optimus' opinion on this?"

Prowl tilted his head to the side to fix the youngling with a piercing blue optic. "Prime is in for a routine check-up but he will be informed," he gently reprimanded, the lie sliding easily off of his glossa.

The Aerialbots were young, naïve, inexperienced. Prowl had never approved of their creation, but it had been necessary. Numbers didn't mean anything in a specialized war.

"Inform First Aid that he should prepare the medbay for potential casualties."

"Yessir."

* * *

"He's gonna be okay, isn't he, Boss?"

What little of the dark sky they could see from the rocky outcrop above them was littered with patches and patches of bright stars. Soundwave wearily shifted his aching frame against the wall of rock he was leaning against and held Rumble closer to him, mindful of the tubing that linked their chests together. There was the light sting of pain when Frenzy dug his smaller fingers into the horribly scratched armour of his shoulder in an attempt to rewire some of the torn cabling, but Soundwave didn't mind it so much. Pain meant that his sensors were still working, that he had yet to succumb to the dead numbness of his systems shutting down one by one.

When Soundwave didn't immediately respond, Frenzy's question took on a more desperate note. "Boss?"

"Current situation: stable." His secondary vocaliser crackled, finally fritzing out from behind his dented faceplate. Without the synthesised monotone layering his voice, the bleakness he felt was obvious. He was never one to mince words; always owing the truth to his Cassettes. "However, he requires dire medical assistance. We need to wait."

Frenzy nodded and tipped his chin back, critically surveying his handiwork. Soundwave's shoulder was sticking out of his torso further than it should; the joint clearly out of alignment. Dried streaks of fluid ran down the dark plating from where the main hydraulic line had burst and overall it wasn't a pretty sight. But at least Frenzy had managed to stop the wires from sparking and Soundwave being able to move his arm again was a definite improvement from before, though he hardly had any power in it.

"Thank you, Frenzy."

"Yeah well, just doing my job. Ya still look like Menasor stomped on ya, though."

Frenzy stepped down from balancing on the telepath's folded leg and resigned himself to sit patiently by his side for now to share warmth. Night in the desert was bitterly cold to their already over-taxed bodies, though it couldn't compare to the bitterness of Laserbeak's betrayal. Ratbat following suit was just an unwanted bonus. Some time passed and Frenzy was already fidgeting, the little winglets on his back twitching with agitation and the tips of his fingers were back into clinging at the main seam of Soundwave's leg.

"Ya sure ya can keep him connected to yer spark like that?"

_Ya sure ya won't deactivate in the middle of it and take him with ya?_

Soundwave stared at the smaller mech, the dim glow of an orange optic visible just visible through his ruined visor's many cracks. It was true that it was stressful to have Rumble's main spark feed directly connected to his own and thus allowing the energy to cycle between them, but it was also keeping his precious symbiote alive. Soundwave was having a tough time as it was trying to manage Rumble's offline systems, constantly directing and redirecting resources around to compensate for the Cassette's large loss of life fluids.

"I can handle it," Soundwave finally said.

Frenzy's visor itself was dark with worry but he contented himself by staring stubbornly beyond the gorge's jagged entrance, where he knew Ravage was patrolling the area for intruders; ironically looking out for what were now their ex-comrades. When Soundwave's vents hitched irregularly, Frenzy spoke again.

"I ain't defecting. Didn't fight all these vorns just so I could become some stupid Autoboob."

"I know you will not. Preferred choice: asylum. Optimus Prime will grant it. Incentive: information."

"Yeah well that's just dandy, ain't it? An' what about yer 'preferred choice', Sounders?"

"What about me?"

Frenzy was scraping aimlessly at the dry ground. He sounded angry and Soundwave didn't blame him. "Yer Prime's bonded now. Where does that leave ya, huh?"

"I do not know," Soundwave answered. "My wellbeing: secondary. Rumble: top priority."

The Cassetticon's voice rose in volume, words vehemently spat out. "Following ya this far cost us everything so for yer sake, he fuckin' better be!"

Soundwave would not allow himself to feel guilty. He had to remain strong. "Your brother _will_ live. I will make sure of it."

"Sorry," Frenzy managed to grit out. Temporarily mollified by Soundwave's firm statement, Frenzy glanced up at him quickly and then cast his gaze back to the ground. After a pause, he sounded much calmer. "Can't believe the Matrix just dropped in on ya like that. Bet ya weren't expecting that."

"Neither did Optimus, I can assure you."

There was a small snort of incredulity next to him. "...un-fraggin-believable."

Nothing more was said until Buzzsaw flew towards them and landed carefully by Soundwave's pedes. He made a series of electronic whirrs that instantly had Soundwave straighten. Frenzy was frowning; a strange expression on his face that was a mixture of hope and disdain.

"Ya sure they're Autobots, birdbrain?"

Buzzsaw's answer was mildly insulting and Frenzy scoffed. The small red and black mech bounced onto his pedes. He raised his hand up into a blocking motion when Soundwave slowly rose up to his knees.

"Stay here with Rumble. I'll go greet the cavalry, yeah?"

Soundwave cocked his helm to one side, questioningly before nodding. He sat back and his fingers tightened on the blaster that lay by his side. "Do not provoke. Sonics: unwise. If not Autobots then use as last resort."

"I know, I know."

Frenzy's brave grin faltered at the sight of the blackened hole on Rumble's stasis-locked body but he quickly spun around and began to make himself out into the open. A pair of disembodied red optics floated in the shadows on his right; Ravage's sleek body camouflaged perfectly. Buzzsaw's optics were brighter, redder, signifying his restlessness, gliding over him and barely stirring up a breeze before landing somewhere to his left. They all knew that escape would be practically impossible and if their already dour situation turned even sourer, then Frenzy's sonic ability would pump out enough vibration to cause the rocks around them to cave in.

With the gorge's tall walls surrounding him and the never-ending expanse of the night sky boring down on him, Frenzy pulled himself up onto a sizable boulder and stood as proud as his small stature would allow him. He placed his hands on his hips, never mind that he looked an absolute mess and waited.

* * *

It was cold, and Jazz activated his internal heating system to warm the joints of his frame. Funny how in the day it could be so hot, yet at night the temperatures were almost unbearably cold. Jazz moved forward by himself, his GPS pinpointed on Bluestreak's position from his own. If he paused to concentrate for a long time, he could see Bluestreak's gun barrel glinting under the night stars. It wasn't obvious, and Jazz was searching by infrared, but still. Unless a mech was dead, he'd always have a heat signature, and the ones he was spotting from a ways up concerned him. Not to mention the blood trail he'd been following. Jazz flicked his round headlights on and lifted his pede, finding the bottom of it covered with sticky energon blood mixed in with sand and weeds.

A hurt Decepticon. It wasn't the humans, impossible, wasn't any Autobots – they'd all been accounted for. With a rifle in his hands, Jazz crept slowly forward, hugging the inside corner of the canyon. Jazz's breath steamed out from his mouth, along with his vents, and he smiled as he worked at what he did best, barely stopping the urge to hum a song he'd grown attracted to. There were several heat signatures ahead. Enemy ones.

The black and white mech paused, his visor flashing a dark colour as he took in the sight ahead of him. Wasn't that… _Rumble? _Wait, no. That was Frenzy. Dropping his presets, the Autobot stepped out of the shadows that had been concealing him.

"Friend, doncha know you're in Autobot territory?" Jazz asked quietly, raising his gun.

"Don't ya think we know we're in Autobot territory, ya dumbo?" Frenzy snapped impatiently.

Jazz didn't aim, but he held it in a threatening position. Mirage, though invisible, did the same. Jazz could see him with his visor off to the left. Although, he _did _take aim.

"State your business."

Jazz was looking around the curve of rock and within a naturally occurring cave; curiously, trying to pinpoint exactly what was going on. The saboteur took a step forward, his rounded alternative mode headlights flashing over the path. They illuminated a large form a little ways behind Frenzy – a hunched over Soundwave. Jazz drew his gun up and aimed right at him.

What the fuck did Prime know about Soundwave _anyways? _

Soundwave raised his head to blearily look at the Autobot, protectively pulling Rumble closer to his chassis. He aimed his own concussion blaster at the Autobot but he was too slow, the aim was off and his shaking arm was only able to bend at the elbow. Soundwave remained silent, not wishing to speak himself and trusted his symbiote to elaborate instead. Frenzy's loud voice rang out behind them. He cycled a deep sigh and shifted his stance on the boulder, remembering that he was supposed to beseech the Autobots for help and not insult them.

"We request—" Frenzy appeared to choke on that word. "—asylum and also we need that medic of yers. Really, _really_ badly. Rumble's barely hanging on and as ya can plainly see, Soundwave ain't too hot either."

To show that they came in peace, Soundwave flicked the gun's safety catch on and tossed it at Jazz; his throw was so weak that the weapon skidded to a halt only halfway towards the other mech's pedes.

Jazz chirred low in his vocalizer as he gazed upon the pair, albeit from a good, respectable distance. An invisible hand picked up the gun that was between them, and he watched as Mirage edged his way around the rock behind them to secure the cave from both sides, Bluestreak from above.

"Unfortunately our communications in this sector are being jammed, so we can't get through to base," Jazz murmured, tapping the communicator at his wrist.

And as commander of the group, there was no way he was even going to let Ratchet come down here. Signalling around with his hand to Bluestreak, he watched as the mech withdrew and headed back. Vaguely he could hear the mech transform and start his engine. Relaxing his posture, Jazz let his own gun point at the ground.

"They only way I see you getting back to Autobot headquarters would be if you transform. Can you still shift mass?"

Mirage made a hiss of disapproval from his left, and he watched the noble's gold optics turn darker as he motioned with his hands. _A mistake_, the noble clearly was saying. Quite possibly true, but there really wasn't much of a choice, if it all panned out, Soundwave could offer up some good information. Something had certainly happened, something bad, and Prime knew what was going on.

"If you can transform we'll take back up to the top to him. Mirage can carry Rumble."

With Soundwave still remaining quiet, Frenzy continued to act as his advocator. There was a soft _thump_ when he jumped off the boulder. "Can't ya see that there's no way in hell he can transform? He'd hafta disconnect Rumble from his spark. See where I'm goin' here, bud? However..." Frenzy sneered and Soundwave knew that he was trying hard to cover his growing desperation. "We can help with the jamming. It's our toy. Buzzsaw's gonna bring it over and then ya can call for that big shuttle and we all – _damn it, Boss_!"

Soundwave was pressing the back of his shoulders against the wall behind him, using it as leverage so he could propel himself up to stand. He refused to continue sitting there like a he was a hapless weakling. Inwardly wincing as his plating scraped horribly against the rock, Rumble's legs swung limply when he finally managed to get himself upright, helm bowed to avoid the low ceiling. An impressive ten seconds passed before the power relay to his fuel pump overheated and caused it to stall, quite violently. The resulting backwash of energon surged up his tubes and Soundwave's injured shoulder crashed against the rock when he lurched forward, bending at the torso to purge. He barely even had enough time to rip the mask off his face – the auto-mechanism was broken – while he gasped and heaved, processed fuel splattering on the ground by his pedes.

Frenzy scowled fiercely at the scene and uttered a crude Cybertronian curse before he immediately bounded over to him. He pushed his body against the side of Soundwave's waist to keep him from falling back down. Even when Buzzsaw swooped into the shallow cave and dropped the jamming device by the Autobot, Frenzy was blindly trying to reach up between the two chestplates to physically reaffirm that his twin's spark was still there.

"Don't fret. Rumble's still stable," Soundwave rasped over the unhealthy noise of his stuttering vents, too exhausted to mentally reassure any of them. "Main connector lead is loose."

Mouth tight, Frenzy secured the cable plugged into his brother's medical access port. Then his helm whipped quickly to the side, focusing a glare onto the grey box. The blinking, green LED dimmed into black and Frenzy shifted his glare to Jazz instead.

"I ain't gonna dilly dally about here. Yer gonna help us because we can offer good information but if ya don't get that help here fast and Rumble dies, then ya get squat!"

Jazz wasn't sure if he was impressed or annoyed with the little mech in front of him. The saboteur quickly bent over and snatched up the small piece, just a simple jamming device that fizzled out all communications for a good fifty miles. Jazz's fingers flitted over the device and it shut off, where he was immediately hailed by Prowl, who he opted to send a text to instead. Bluestreak's voice sounded over his internal communicator – Ratchet had already been dispatched. But how? How could Ratchet possibly know when none of the mechs at base even knew what was going on?

"I don't have th' power to grant ya asylum, only Optimus Prime does, and he's not available. In th' meantime, I can only take ya as prisoners of war. You'll have to wait for Optimus' judgement."

Taking a step away, he subbed the jammer so Wheeljack could look at it later. The more they knew about Decepticon weaponry, the better. For the moment, Jazz withdrew from the Decepticons, going to the opposite wall of the canyon. It wasn't that far away, and he could still hear whispers of conversation. The personal atmosphere between Soundwave and his cassettes was something he had no interest in besides to gauge their relationships to each other. They were close, very close for Decepticons. Most didn't form lasting bonds as they did, though, the connection between them surely helped to strengthen what they had.

Ten minutes passed, then a half an hour, then forty-five terse minutes later, he could see Ratchet and – as he looked hard - Ironhide's headlights illuminate a smattering of rocks on the walls, and he stepped forward to greet them, as well as a deterrent to keep the Decepticons where they were.

The pair pulled up and promptly transformed. As soon as they were in bipedal form, Ironhide was cussing his best English and Cybertronian at the same time. The big mech raised his gun, pointed at the ground in front of the group, and his jaw tensed as Ratchet laid a hand on his shoulder.

"I can take care of this," the medic murmured, his blue optics flashing dark as he took a small step forward, almost hesitant.

"Fuck you are," Ironhide growled, his arm flying out to grasp the CMO's collar ridge, tugging him back. "I'm not letting you go near them until they're all disarmed, subspace included." As Ratchet's guardian, it was his job to make sure no harm befell the medic.

"We told ya," Frenzy insisted. Really it was amazing how a small mech like that could produce such a loud voice. "We ain't attacking. We only got a couple of rockets between us and that's it."

Soundwave was slowly making himself out towards the Autobots using measured, cautious steps, his right pede dragging ever so slightly in the dirt. The moon above them illuminated the broken edges of his chestplate and the thick energy cable that was wedged between him and his cargo. The light continued to emphasise the horrible condition of his body; from the ripped plating on his shoulder where the cannon used to rest, to the vicious scratches and indentations covering his abdominal plating and down to the finger-shaped impressions on his warped interface panel. It was as if he had been mauled by a wild beast.

The fuel pump failed again and he ended up heaving once more. The disgusting, viscous liquid brought up from his tanks clung stubbornly to his parted lips and when he managed to wipe his mouth, he couldn't keep himself from wincing when the gears crunched sickeningly at his shoulder joint.

"I can't feel him!" Frenzy's visor was almost blindingly bright. "Why can't I feel him?"

"Spark fluctuation. From: temporary tank failure. Had to shut down several tertiary directories to save resources," Soundwave was explaining flatly. He didn't mention that he was desperately forcing new overrides onto Rumble's dormant systems to keep them from crashing completely.

Frenzy had endured too much and everything he had ever believed in, had fought for was now gone, leaving him hurtling into the obscurity of uncertainty. He was yelling, literally vibrating with hopelessness. "Don't lie to me! Then why can't I feel him! Was it worth it? Tell me, ya traitor! Was it worth it in the end?"

"Frenzy," Soundwave warned, his own seemingly limitless patience waning.

"Why don't ya tell them! Tell them that ya-"

Soundwave had managed to scrounge enough energy within himself to conjure up a telepathic jolt that had Frenzy's helm snap to one side as if he'd been physically slapped.

"Such insubordination from a mere _symbiote_ will not be tolerated," Soundwave snarled quietly. "Everything in one's function is a choice. Remember that. You following me to this point had been your choice. Now calm down. Rumble is not dead."

He sat down heavily onto the boulder Frenzy had been standing on previously and was pathetically glad that he had thought to lock the elbow joints of his good arm into place because he would have surely dropped Rumble's unmoving chassis by now. Disciplining Frenzy had drained whatever meagre dregs of energy he had left and Soundwave knew that it was out of sheer will that was keeping him from collapsing already. There was gentle tap at his shin and he glanced down through his ruined visor. Ravage had moved away from his hidden position in the shadows, the remains of Soundwave's mouthplate clamped between his strong jaws. Frenzy took it instead and turned it over in his hands.

"Yer second vocaliser's completely busted, Boss," he said with a subdued tone. "Clips gone to hell too. Ya need a new one."

Soundwave didn't even warrant him with a look but he vowed to himself that he'd make it up to his little Cassette later on...that is, if he ever got the chance to. Instead, he resolutely straightened his shoulders, pulling them back as far as he possibly could and stared at the mechs in front of him, pinpointing each and every one.

"Current request: asylum. Megatron: has issued an order towards all currently serving Decepticons to kill us on sight. I no longer have command over the Cassetticons Laserbeak and Ratbat. I will not divulge any information until after I have spoken to Optimus Prime personally," he called out, voice weary and filled with static. He tipped his chin up, acknowledging Ratchet in the far back of the group. "Autobot Ratchet. The power relay to my fuel pump is failing fast. Rumble: connected directly to my systems and spark. He will likely not survive another episode like that."

Ironhide's facial plates turned into a sharp scowl as he watched the Decepticon. His grip loosened and he stepped to the side, covering Ratchet from behind, practically looming over him.

"Disgusting," Ironhide said lowly, crossing his arms over his thick chassis.

Jazz chirred again, stepping around the group to go to the back to talk with Prowl. The saboteur tapped at his wrist and a hologram of Prowl came into view. Jazz replayed the conversation to his commander, and the two conversed animatedly while Ratchet stepped forward farther.

The medic moved until he was right in front of Soundwave, and he skirted to the side so he could inspect the wound. He activated his headlights so he could see better, then bent forward, resting his palm near the Decepticon's hip. It wasn't the best way to examine a patient, but he said nothing of it. After a thorough inspection, he set to work.

First, the mech needed emergency medicinal energon. Such of which Ratchet had a special tank for in his own chassis. His red fingers searched along his side for the cache, and he opened it with a flick of his fingers. A small tube was coiled up, with a sharp, pointed end, and he shifted closer. Ratchet's hands were already slick with mechblood, and he felt along Soundwave's neck for a suitable energy line. With deft precision, he sunk the pointed tip in, and activated it. It would keep Soundwave's energon circulating even if his pump were to fail, because it was working off of Ratchet's own systems.

Not to mention, that medicinal energon was admittedly _strong_. It washed through Soundwave's systems, strengthening his systems but the onslaught of nutrients and supplements was overwhelming him, dizzying his already overworked processors. At least Soundwave's steadying internals seemed to have an indirect, positive effect onto Rumble's.

"Hmm…" the medic observed, his optics dark with his conclusion. "Your systems are weak with nutrient deficiency, results of a poor diet." He reached his hand in Soundwave's chassis and bent lower, flashing a smaller light in there now that his chassis was angled down. "Which will make things problematic because," he felt up farther inside, the sickening slurp and slosh of living internals breaking the quiet, "your energon tank has a small crack on the bottom and your tank is brittle. It would have ruptured soon anyways."

"My apologies," Soundwave said.

Ratchet's optics flickered, unable to discern whether the Decepticon was actually joking or not. But Soundwave's closed off expression betrayed nothing. So Ratchet returned to trying to repair the damage on the other mech as best as he could. It was hard work, especially trying to angle his windshield around the symbiote the mech carried in his arms. But, he managed.

"Need a fucking, agh, this is going to take me forever to fix," Ratchet hissed, beyond displeased.

Soundwave bore Ratchet's ministrations as stoically as he possibly could, suppressing the unbearable urge to flinch away when unwanted hands slid deep into his internals, their touch so revoltingly intimate. The vents framing Soundwave's faceplates stuttered, exhaling hot air. He licked his energon-stained lips and grimaced at the stale taste. Looking up, he noted the dark expression Ironhide was sporting but couldn't care less about it. At least the warmth emanating from Ratchet's close presence was relaxing him ever so slightly, shielding him from the cold around them.

Ratchet slipped his hand back and transformed it into soldering torch. His blue optics darkened as he worked on a cut, working to free a portion of Soundwave's chestplate so he could get at his internals better. Even if just to look, he needed to see all the serious injuries. Once the piece was free, Ratchet pulled it out and let it fall to the ground. Some internal bleeding, pinched wires and abrasions, but not much. Soundwave would be fine after his tubing was patched up and was rewired. Drawing away, Ratchet stood back up with a grunt.

The medic pulled out a pouch full of metallo-mesh bandages from his subspace. He ripped them in sizable pieces with his denta, and took Soundwave's chin in his hand for a moment, pulling his head to the side so he could care for a wound to one of the Decepticon's main energon lines. Ratchet's optics narrowed and he scowled.

"You're putting _him_ in danger," the CMO said, his voice barely audible.

"I have blocked our connection," Soundwave answered just as quietly, not showing any surprise. He eyed up the medic from the corner of a flickering, orange optic, his stare never wavering even as the firm fingers gripped his chin. "I thought it prudent."

Ratchet snorted. "Not good for your health either," he muttered needlessly, drawing himself forward so he could peer at the little symbiote Soundwave carried in his arms.

He stared for several long minutes, prodding gently at a few spots. The thing was a mess, and if he wasn't so sure Soundwave would've detested it, Ratchet would've suggested that they terminate Rumble. But from the displays he had already seen, and what Jazz had been chattering over his communications line, that wasn't going to happen. Most of the damage was to Rumble's middle, hardly anywhere else, and Ratchet pursed his lips in concern.

"His spark chamber is damaged," the medic murmured, taking a step back to gaze at it.

The glowing orb was dark, covered in mechblood and hard to see, but Ratchet could see a hairline crack running up it. Was probably most of the reason he was offline too, because from what Ratchet could see, not many of his energon lines were damaged, but his spark was consuming energy at an enormous rate. Sliding his hand up, he pulled the line connecting him from Soundwave free. Ratchet turned his attention on the symbiote. The medic patched the energon lines that he could, and the rest he clipped off to stem the flow of energon.

"I could fix him, but I'll have to put him in stasis lock on the _Ark_. It could take some time, and even if I do repair him, his spark has been damaged. His personality could be altered. It's…your decision," he finished lowly, glancing back over his shoulder at Ironhide.

Soundwave's mouth tightened and Frenzy made a soft hiss.

"In the meantime while you decide," Ratchet pressed on, "We're going to have to do something about this shoulder of yours. I hope you Decepticons have pain tolerance like I've been told," he warned

Ironhide took several steps closer. He was listening intently, and now both hands were resting on his gun again.

"Ironhide," the CMO muttered, barely concealing his smirk as he gazed back at his occasional partner. "I'm going to need your help for this."

"I'd be delighted," Ironhide replied in Cybertronian, his accent thick and heavy.

The red mech set his rifle flat on the ground, then drew closer and grasped Soundwave's wrist, hauling his arm up loosely. He didn't pull yet, but he knew when he'd have to. Hadn't been the first time he'd had to help with this sort of thing, or of when it'd been done to himself. Though he did not bother to hide his grin of amusement.

Ratchet transformed his hand into a saw, and Ironhide aimed his headlights at the area, hopefully keeping it bright enough so the Decepticon would turn his face away.

"Just hold still, this is going to hurt," Ratchet said.

With a quiet whir, he started the bainite blade. It was specialized for cutting through thick, military grade armour. Sparks flew as he sliced through Soundwave's shoulder plating, and Ironhide pulled the mech's arm taunt, keeping a firm hold on his forearm with both hands.

"I didn't think I'd need any tranquilizers, or painkillers tonight," Ratchet said loudly, almost in a shout as he shaved away Soundwave's plating with absurd ease.

Once it was out of the way, he quickly transformed his hand back and wrapped his arms around Soundwave's shoulders, bracing him. Ironhide pulled the Decepticon's arm, and with a crunch, it popped back in place. Ratchet pulled back, and Ironhide let go, letting Soundwave's arm flop against the rock.

"There, not so bad, eh?" Ratchet asked.

Soundwave didn't answer Ratchet immediately. He barely made a sound either, even as the pain blossomed through his screaming neutral net, a high crescendo of agony that temporarily shorted out his vision before it receded back to his injured shoulder. He just lowered his helm until it touched crests with Rumble's, while his internal fans laboured in vain, as if they were trying to bodily expel the pain from his internals. As professional as Ratchet was, Soundwave was just happy that the sensors attached to his armour had already been dead from before. Telepathy was not a requirement to know that Autobots' sadist of a medic had lied about the tranquilisers.

"Autobot medic: services quite adequate, thank you," he conceded, though his sharp denta were still clenched together.

"What he means," Frenzy piped up sullenly from somewhere in the background, having inched closer to Ravage and Buzzsaw. "Is that he thinks ya should go fuck yerself."

Soundwave did not bother refuting his subordinate's statement.

But Ratchet wasn't looking at Soundwave, his intense gaze was upon the little symbiote mouthing off to him. He brandished his hand at the little mech, but it was clearly in a nonthreatening gesture. "I have mechs who do that for me," he stated, huffing with indignity as he turned away. He looked back to Soundwave. "Consider this a tiny bit of repayment for… earlier repercussions."

Soundwave remained silent. Instead, he swung his recently aligned arm in a brief pendulum motion and then raised it, bending, and wiggling his fingers in a quick test. The pain was still there, but it had numbed down into an ache that he knew would not go away until the entire socket, gears and all, were replaced. While he did that, he began to adjust Rumble's programming, and one of his hands skirted over the Cassette's torso to reaffirm that the energon tubes that Ratchet had fixed continued to hold.

"Alright," Jazz cut in, stepping in front of an Ironhide who looked like he was ready to make a grab for Frenzy himself. The saboteur fanned his hands out, as if settling the deal. "Skyfire is coming for transport, but he can't make it down here in this canyon, so we're going to have to go topside to get a pickup."

"Yes…" Ratchet agreed. "There's not much more I can do out here. Soundwave needs surgery, along with Rumble." The CMO had his hands on his hips, looking quite displeased with everything. "This is just fucking great. Good way to ruin my entire damn week," he hissed, taking a few steps off as he coiled up the emergency energon line. As much as he grumbled and complained, he was good at his profession, and he had a deep-seated love for all of his patients, no matter if they were Neutral or Autobot, or even Decepticons.

Ironhide followed him and made a poorly concealed grab for Ratchet's aft, but was easily evaded with a swat and a cuss word. Once they were a safe distance away, they both began arguing together rather vehemently, and many gestures were made to the Decepticon group.

"I'm starting to think we're better off self-terminating," Frenzy muttered disdainfully as he neared his Master.

"Perhaps," Soundwave murmured. "But then it would have all been for naught."

Now feeling more robust and confident he would not break down, Soundwave slid off the boulder he was sitting on and walked closer to part of the canyon wall that was angled less steeply than the others. His sensor-net prickled as he passed the invisible Autobot and it didn't stop him from glancing to the side and sneering at the seemingly empty space. Mirage could boast about his ability all he could but Soundwave could still sense him should he wander in close enough.

Soundwave hoisted up Rumble more securely to his chassis and stared up, calculating each foothold with mathematical precision. Ravage was already jumping from rock to rock, gracefully making himself to top. None of the Autobots had offered for help and he did not expect them to, nor was he going to lower himself and ask. He still cared for the Decepticon cause, after all.

"Chest compartment: not functional to carry you. Frenzy's anti-gravs: functional?" he questioned Frenzy.

The Cassetticon made a face. "Just enough, I guess."

Soundwave accessed the program to activate his own. They did employ...though barely. Any previous attempt had been shot down by the serious energy drain but now he felt half-way decent to at least make it up there. He began to hover unsteadily off the ground and with his free hand, he grasped part of the wall to pull himself up. His elbow gained many scratches from the way he used it as a barrier to keep Rumble from being scraped, but it was something he hardly paid attention to. One pede dug into the rock face, loose grit falling down below and although much of the protruding rock crumbled underneath his heavy weight, the anti-gravs helped him to scramble nimbly, up and up until he victoriously reached solid ground. Frenzy's own anti-gravs gave out the last minute and a startled yelp was the only warning Soundwave received before his quick reflexes kicked in. He caught his symbiote by the winglet, saving him from suffering from an ungainly fall back down into the canyon.

Frenzy grinned, his words lost over the growing rumble of Skyfire's engines. "Thanks boss."

* * *

Rumble would live. The full damage to his cranial and personality circuitry would not be known until he was woken. However, with a new energon regulator attached to the outside of his spark, he was consuming energon at the normal rate for a mech in stasis lock. His systems were slowly being rebuilt, and the task was much harder than Ratchet had anticipated. Everything was smaller, harder to put together, and more time consuming. He would remain in stasis lock until he was fully repaired.

Soundwave however… Ratchet shifted in his hovering medical chair, feeling the struts in his back crack unpleasantly. He'd been working on cutting off more of the telepath's dented plating so it could be repaired before he could start the intensive internal repairs. But Soundwave hadn't said much.

Ratchet stood and stretched, massaging his red fingers carefully. He shuffled off to his medical desk, pulling out a cube of strong highgrade. He poured it into two small cups and returned back to Soundwave's side, setting them onto a tray of bloodied tools. He pressed one cup into Soundwave's hands. "It'll help dull the pain," Ratchet offered. He meant the emotional _and _physical pain.

Soundwave lifted the cup up, held it into the light to inspect the liquid inside and brought it close to his olfactory sensors. When he saw Ratchet sip from his cup, only then did he ascertain that his highgrade was not poisoned. But then again, he was sure that Ratchet would have had other more _creative _ways of terminating him; poison would have been rather unoriginal for a medic.

"So…are you with spark yet? Or is that a surprise for later?"

"New spark: negative," Soundwave answered with a clipped tone. He hated how raw his voice sounded without the secondary vocaliser to synthesise it or the mask to hide the movement of his mouth. "I do not feel any anomalies in my spark save for the bond."

The Decepticon then downed the highgrade in one go and his lips twisted. It was strong and locally produced, but it was enough to eat away through his intakes and line the inside of his tanks with a prickly sense of numbness.

"Well, that's something you can anticipate in the future. Prime will want an heir," Ratchet easily replied as he took another gulp of his energon. Ratchet continued to work on Soundwave's wiring, sorting out the melted destroyed mess. "I know this probably won't make much of a difference to you right now, but I do honestly follow by the war guidelines set down by the medical association of Iacon. I only want to help those in need," Ratchet rumbled. "So just relax kid. I won't be offended if you recharge either."

Ratchet paused for a moment when Soundwave raised his arm so he could rub his face wearily. Though his optics were hidden by his still-broken visor, his mouth twisted with displeasure.

"Future: uncertain. Heir: uncertain. This bond: _very _uncertain. I am the enemy," he said flatly, his helm rolling back to rest onto the berth. The lights above him were bright enough to irritate his sensitive optics and he was exhausted, but falling into recharge was not an option. Soundwave opened his mouth, perhaps to tell Ratchet not to bother fixing him if he was just going to be executed later…but thought better of it and just pressed his lips together.

Ratchet leaned back in his chair, his optics distant. "I can tell you're the type of mech who likes it straight, so I'll be honest with you. The Council will decide what to do with you, but if they terminate you, they're essentially terminating Optimus as well. A bond is a very intimate thing. You're literally sharing each other's sparks. Optimus, like any mech, has his faults, but he's a good leader. His destruction would cripple the Autobot cause."

Naturally, Soundwave did not look very happy hearing that.

Ratchet wiped off a bloodied tool with a cloth before he turned back and peered carefully at Soundwave's chassis. "However, I cannot say how the bond between you and Optimus will develop. It will always be there, but he may decide to lock you up and never touch you again, or he might decide to really make you Royal Consort. Not to mention he's engaged to be bonded to Elita, but then cheated on her with Magnus, and cheated on him with you. Your best option is to keep yourself appealing to him and compete with the others. I know you Decepticons love shit like that."

Soundwave turned his helm back to stare at Ratchet in a slow, rather incredulous manner. "I am a communications officer. I am a Decepticon. _Not _a courtesan of the court. _Not _a suitor. Priority: Cassetticons. It is not my decision. Decision belongs to: the Council, Optimus Prime, and the Matrix. Not mine."

The telepath's vents released a hot burst of air, and his pump made a grating sound that sounded horrible without the buffer of his inner plating. He wasn't sure whether he was trying to laugh at the ridiculous idea of competing for Optimus' affections. He'd be lucky if Optimus ever gave him a second glance after this.

Of course the highgrade didn't help.

"Royal Consort. Absurd," Soundwave spat out. "I will not debase myself by grovelling for his attention. I do not know 'love'. I have never been courted. I do not know the machinations of such a practice."

"Well," Ratchet replied, his slender fingers sliding into Soundwave's chassis to tug on something until it came completely out. "I'll just keep you in my office and make you suck my cock during energon breaks."

He chuckled, not noticing the calculative expression Soundwave gave him.

"But seriously," Ratchet continued to speak. "Look at the opportunity right in front of you. Bonded to the most powerful mech on Cybertron. You have the ability to win him over. He's obviously sexually interested in you. I can only advise you to make the best of it all. Who knows, in the end, everything you dared not to dream of might come true."

"Medic should not mock me."

"I wasn't mocking you—"

"Correction: he was sexually interested in me. I doubt that is the case now. Please understand. There are no happy endings for me."

"Sheesh, you could make the most happy-go-lucky mech slit his wrists."

The Decepticon flinched when Ratchet pulled at another wire within his chassis, one that connected to his sensor relays. It had completely fused to his body from his overheating systems. The full mouth relaxed, somewhat in consideration and when he spoke, his voice was calm and collected.

"Autobot CMO Ratchet. Proposal of deal in regards to your earlier statement: my symbiotes' safety in return of private services. I will not resist. I am…skilled," Soundwave said.

Ratchet looked up, his mouth slightly agape. Soundwave stared back and the optics behind his dark visor dimmed, though it was uncertain whether it was from his attempt to seduce or complete miserable resignation.

"It was a joke I shouldn't have made, Soundwave. I'm in a relationship and he wouldn't be too happy if I started messing around with a dangerous Decepticon. Everyone here takes really good care of me. I'm spoiled," Ratchet quickly replied. "Your symbiotes will be kept safe. If everything goes completely wrong, I can tell you that Blaster would only be too happy to take care of them. He's a good mech and loves his symbiotes like his children. He'd be personally horrified if they were harmed. Though I do urge you to make sure they're as helpful as possible. It will make things much easier."

Soundwave barely kept his scathing retort to _that _under wraps but he openly scowled, giving Ratchet a flash of his pointed denta – an obvious indication of his opinion to Blaster taking in his symbiotes.

"My symbiotes will not cause any trouble. They have other more pressing worries. They know where they currently stand." Soundwave then wet his dry lips and shifted the focus of his optics to stare at the room where Rumble was currently kept. "My apologies for offending you." A pause. "I seek counsel with Optimus Prime."

Ratchet nodded and stood up. He wiped his hands and set his scalpel down to round the berth. Soundwave had been partitioned from the main med bay with strung up thermal blankets, but the doublewide doors had been locked anyways to keep anyone without an emergency from wandering in. Ratchet ripped the curtains down with a fierce tug, revealing more, and he ripped those down too.

A half-repaired Optimus lay in recharge only a short distance away.

"Hello this is Optimus, I'm not awake right now so you'll have to leave a message and I'll get back to you as soon as I can," Ratchet said in a high, femme-like voice.

The telepath's optics flared at the sight of his bondmate. The bond between them must have been completely blocked, or he must have been too drained to miss sensing Optimus at such close proximity. His spark involuntarily jumped with such vigour, eagerly seeking its other half, that it actually hurt Soundwave. He gasped and slapped a hand flat on his chest, his broken claw tips brushing against his lasercore from where parts of it lay visible from underneath the half-assembled plating of his torso.

"You waste valuable time and effort," he wheezed, "by trying to be humorous."

Ratchet laughed. "You'll soon discover I make the worst jokes in the entire Autobot army."

The expression on Soundwave's face remained unchanged. Clearly he did not quite understand the concept of comedy.

The medic threw a blanket over Prime's form, obscuring him somewhat. "The bond must be very weak. It is advisable, on a medical level, if you both bond again as soon as you can. Sparks need many hours together so you don't feel that pain, and so that you can start to utilize all that a bond has to offer. Sending thoughts and emotions to each other is handy. Everything from hate to arousal can keenly be felt."

Soundwave couldn't look at Optimus' still form any longer. He returned back to staring up at the ceiling. He wondered why the medic kept talking about nurturing the bond, optimistically referring to a happy future when Soundwave was sure that this…thing…that linked between his and the Prime's sparks should be left to erode. But be that as it may, Soundwave was too tired, and simply too lost to think of anything beyond. He had defected, Megatron would stop at nothing to eliminate him, and all he had to do was survive to see the next day.

He hoped.

* * *

Soundwave had to be put into stasis lock for the remainder of his chassis repairs. A high-powered lamp was shining above Ratchet's helm into the cavern of Soundwave's internals, and occasionally a light would flash or a strut would contract in the inner workings at Ratchet diligently worked. Soundwave's design was one of the most brilliant and efficient he had ever seen. Repairs were generally easy, almost all of the parts were reinforced, and everything was high-quality despite the energon deprivation which had started to cause a large amount of common wear and tear.

Ratchet sat back, his fingertips retracting and transforming into grating drill bits. He began to shave away metal, but looked up when the medbay doors opened. While he couldn't see the doors because he had Soundwave surrounded by a wall of thermal blankets, he knew someone with the access codes had entered. Very few had the codes. Whatever it was, it must have been important.

Ratchet ducked out from the thermal blankets and peered around the corner of them, spotting a red-plated mech who was walking straight for him.

"Ratchet!" Sideswipe called, a large smile on his face.

The medic scowled. "How the fuck did you get the entry codes? Wait, don't tell me. I don't want to know."

Sideswipe stopped when he was only an arm's length away and shrugged his broad shoulders. "Every mech has their price."

Sideswipe seemed more interested in what was behind the curtains, and he tried to tactfully dodge around Ratchet, but the medic blocked him by holding his arms out.

"What are you doing here?" Ratchet snapped.

"Well we were just wonderin' what the fuck is going on. No one's talking facts but everyone's got theories. Just wanted to see what's going on."

Ratchet sighed and pushed Sideswipe away with the base of his palm. "This is not a soldier's business. Everything will be sorted soon."

"Is that fuckin' Decepticon really right there?" Sideswipe asked, but he stopped trying to get around the medic and settled instead for craning his neck to the side to try to glance through the opening in the thermal blankets Ratchet used to enter and exit. "And you're repairing him with _our_ parts?"

Ratchet bristled. "Sideswipe, fuck off."

Quickly realising that he wasn't going to get any answers by annoying the main medic, Sideswipe pulled back a little and he flashed Ratchet a charming, roguish smile. "Aw c'mon. I'm not just _anyone_."

As a frontliner warrior, Sideswipe was much taller and broader than Ratchet. He played it to his advantage, making himself as alluring as possible and his energy field pulsed invitingly. Ratchet on the other hand, just gave a long-suffering sigh at the other's antics.

"Hey," Sideswipe breathed, his optics darkening and his finger made a muted squeal as he drew it down the windshield of Ratchet's alt-mode. "It's not as if I'm gonna blab it to anyone. Sunstreaker definitely won't."

"Ah," Ratchet said. He gave the blanket a sharp tug to close the gap and forcefully inserted himself in Sideswipe's personal space. "Why don't you suck me off and I'll tell you."

Sideswipe's optics brightened. "Really?"

"No," Ratchet said flatly.

Not one to be deterred, Sideswipe pursed his lips determinedly and his hand trailed down to the vivid red plating of Ratchet's pelvis. "Yes."

The other Autobot chuckled. "Persistent little slagger, aren't you?"

Sideswipe grinned impishly. "Say yes."

"No."

"Yes."

This time, a different voice answered for Ratchet. "_No._"

Neither of them had noticed Wheeljack's presence in the room. The engineer stood behind them, by one of the berths. His pose was deceptively amiable and relaxed, and his helm finials lit up in a quick sequence.

"Am I interrupting anything?" Wheeljack questioned cheerfully.

Both Ratchet and Sideswipe paused, looking over to the mech who had spoken.

Ratchet shrugged. "This soldier is trying to solicit sex from me. Nothing unusual."

Sideswipe scoffed and shifted to the side while Ratchet was looking away. He managed to catch a glimpse of Soundwave's plating, and his optics flared. "I was just kidding. I wanted to know what's going on. Prowl's not saying anything either. Everyone's just…on edge."

Ratchet drew the thermal blankets closer together to obscure the mech inside. "And somehow this one," he jerked his thumb back towards Sideswipe, "got the medbay codes. Gonna need you to change them."

Wheeljack's bright blue optics focused briefly on Sideswipe. "Is that so. I kinda wondered why Bluestreak wanted to know what I was up to."

"Ah…" Ratchet smirked knowingly. "The ole' 'distraction by the cutie' trick."

The red-plated twin frowned and his optics flitted from between the two senior officers. They were closing in on him, cornering him from both sides like they wanted to trap him with no escape.

"That's violating paragraph twenty-two, from section three isn't it?"

"Section eighteen actually," Ratchet corrected. "Brig time. Possible demotion. Stealing codes from an officer is a very serious offense indeed."

"Seriously guys!" Sideswipe protested, palms facing up in a mollifying gesture. "I didn't mean any harm and you know it!"

"You know…" Wheeljack drawled, tapping the tip of one smudged finger against the bottom of his mask. "I actually need a strong, capable mech to help me with this one new invention."

"The one with the unstable component?" Ratchet asked, feigning disinterest.

"That's the one!"

"Well. I'm not repairing any limbs again. I've got my hands full as it is," Ratchet replied. "So…be careful would you?"

Sideswipe hastily backed away when it was made clear that he would not be getting any information out of the pair. The red twin padded out slowly and left. The medbay doors shut again, and Ratchet walked over to the panel mounted in the wall to flip it open.

"How do you change the codes again? I'm not sure if you did it last or if Prowl did…" the medic mumbled.

Wheeljack's vents made a sort of noise – a mixture between a laugh and a snort – and neared the other mech. He connected to the control panel via a wire that extended from the base of his wrist and mere seconds later, the unit's display lit up to accept the new codes.

"Done. Here, I'll databurst it to you." The engineer paused before giving Ratchet a look from over his shoulder. "Were you going to give in?"

"Was I going to give in to what?" Ratchet absently replied as he filed the code away, then sent the updated pass to the rest of the officers who had unlimited access.

The lights on the mech's finials flashed again, but this time they were bordering on white rather than blue. "Oh let's see… a young prankster, on his knees with that hot little mouth of his servicing you."

Wheeljack sauntered past Ratchet, and his energy field was now fizzing a little with displeasure. He parted the blankets to peer inside, openly scanning the Decepticon's still body for himself and reached over with a servo to casually poke at an exposed wire.

"Oh please. I'm not in the mood for sex anyways. You know how those younglings are. Especially Sideswipe."

The medic stepped inside the thermal blanket lined area, and he smacked Wheeljack's fingers away from Soundwave's open chassis. "Quit it. I don't want him to combust."

Ratchet sidled around the berth and sat back down on his hovering chair so he could stare at the mess of the Decepticon's chassis. "Why don't you head back to the berth? It's late…I'll be there soon."

"Do I have to suck you off to get some information too?" Wheeljack sarcastically asked.

"Why darling, that's the third offer today." Ratchet smiled pleasantly and propped his chin up with his hand. "I _must _be popular today. I wonder why."

The narrow winglets that stuck up from Wheeljack's back twitched as he twisted his body to face Ratchet's chair. "You're not telling me anything either. Everything is all hush-hush and you wanna know what I think?" Wheeljack lowered his voice, as if he was sharing a big secret. "I think somethin' big is gonna happen that will change everything. And Soundwave's a big part of it and it ain't about him defecting either. Prime's bonded with him. And don't try to deny it. I know a bond when I see one."

Ratchet stared at his lover, his expression unchanging. "I can see all those years at the academy for higher programming really paid off. However, I'm required to remain silent on speculation… All I can say is that…it's very interesting. Definitely…changing for the Autobots," Ratchet said cryptically, his red fingers tapping over Soundwave's spark casing.

"Oh yeah."

Ratchet pulled a datapad out of his subspace and handed it over to Wheeljack. "Look at those CPU processing patterns. It's the kid – Rumble. What do you think of them? I wasn't trained to recognize them on such a small scale. Dealing with repairing his systems has been difficult enough for me."

"Nice try on changing the subject, medic," Wheeljack said, but his optics had lightened in colour indicating that he wasn't irritated as he was before. He studied the datapad, gave it a couple of taps to bring up some additional readings. "Hm, well the pest's lucky I can tell you that. He won't wake up with the intelligence of a drone but I can't know for sure until I take new readings." He lowered the datapad and one of his optics brightened while the opposite helm finial gave a little flicker, giving him a crooked look. "Jeeze, he's a hell of a lot older than I originally thought. Are all the symbiotes this old?"

"To my knowledge, which is small so far, they are all older than him."

Wheeljack appeared shocked at the news and Ratchet continued speaking.

"Soundwave is very young, actually. He was probably barely full grown by the time he joined the Decepticons. I cannot tell his exact age…someone edited the files. Someone very intelligent. Shockwave I'm guessing. Soundwave's entire design screams of the mech," Ratchet replied, pointing out several areas of the telepath's chassis that were unusual or unique. "You should map out the design for me…see if we can't use it in the future."

Wheeljack didn't answer immediately. He was staring at Soundwave with interest. "Fuck. I thought he was one of those timeless mechs that existed since the beginning of Cybertron and just showed up out of nowhere as Megatron's evil shadow. But…" He leaned in closer, turning his to one side so he could scrutinise one particular component in Soundwave's open chassis. "Yeah looks really familiar now. I used to tell Shockwave's work just with a single glance. I admired his work. Still do actually. Mech's a fucking genius."

"You don't say," Ratchet drawled. He inclined his helm towards Wheeljack's midsection. "Careful there. Your spike's extending."

"Is not!" Wheeljack placed the datapad back onto the counter. "Look. Basically my opinion is that Rumble should synchronise with Soundwave's systems as soon as he can. It is… in some vague way, kinda akin to spark merging. It'll stabilise his processing and memory cells."

"Must be what happens whenever he opens his chest compartment for them just like Blaster. Unfortunately…that port is pretty much destroyed. And it'll take some time to refabricate Shockwave's work. I just don't have the equipment and time he put into it," Ratchet murmured, nodding in agreement.

"And while you do…" Wheeljack made a gesture towards the Decepticon. "Ugh, make sure that he's restrained. He may be a kid, but he's still dangerous."

Ratchet smiled, his lips barely curving upwards. Warmth filled his spark at Wheeljack's concern. "Of course."

* * *

SO WHAT DID YOU THINK?


	9. Chapter 9

**Warnings**!: **Dubious consent**, explicit sticky sex, dark!Prime. And an exxxxxxxtra long chapter!

Also, we had to upload the chapter again... document manager has been munching on random words here and there. And screwing up the formatting.

* * *

Chapter nine

* * *

Optimus Prime stood awkwardly outside of Soundwave's temporary medical quarters, hesitant if he wanted to go in or leave it for another day. It'd been quite a few days already, and according to Ratchet, Soundwave's health had progressed quite well, and everything seemed to be going good.

Prime's baleful gaze flashed over and he watched Blaster playing with Rewind for a few moments. The Autobot telepath was stationed there to block anything Soundwave might be transmitting, and Optimus knew just by what Blaster had told him that Soundwave wasn't too pleased by it. Telepaths did not do well in each other's mental presence.

The dermal metal of Prime's jaw flexed as he gritted his denta under his mask, and his hand passed over the chime before he put in the codes to open the door. Blaster acknowledged him with a wave of his hand, and Optimus dipped his head in appreciation. The red and yellow mech would be surveying everything.

The door opened and before Optimus' admittedly weak courage to see his mate left him, he stepped inside and palmed his hand over the lock, bringing his helm up to observe the scene. The room was mildly decent and sanitary definitely by the smell of it. There were small bits of shredded bedding and little _puzzles_ were scattered all over the floor. At least, that's what it appeared like. Prime carefully stepped over them and looked up, right into Soundwave's visor. His spark twisted painfully and fretfully in his chassis.

"Hello," he said tersely, halting so he could cross his arms behind his back.

Soundwave had been staring at the berth situated next to his. He was not expecting Optimus to actually step through the threshold of the door that separated him from the outside world, despite feeling his bondmate's presence waver outside many times. His spark would pull, cry out for a merge and then Optimus would leave, leaving his spark crying out for more. It was an uncomfortable feeling of need that was deeply seated within his very core that had nothing to do with lust and everything with _closeness. _Already he despised it; forcing himself to a state of indifference because he knew that that emotion of weakness would forever haunt hurt just to look at the Autobot.

"Optimus Prime," he greeted cordially, straightening his body up on the berth he was confined on. "Your visit: highly expected. I have many things to discuss with you."

Frenzy's visor flickered as he roused from recharge. He lay curled up at his brother's prone form and his helm lolled to the side, giving the Autobot leader a bland, unimpressed stare. "Wow. Prime. A lil' late for that info, dont'cha think?"

Optimus curled his hands together behind his back, squeezing them. "What I do is none of your concern, symbiote," he said coolly. "Of course, you've all been granted asylum in cooperation with the Autobot Accordance Act."

The law made it nearly impossible for Optimus to deny any Decepticon asylum unless they were deemed too dangerous and there were several ways around that. Prime's gaze roved over Soundwave's form and he wasn't sure if pity or anger was the strongest emotion he felt.

"Speak," he said simply, motioning to Soundwave.

"My utmost priority: Cassettes," Soundwave immediately stated. "Incentive: Decepticon information. Access codes and frequency encryptions: would have changed since my escape—"

Soundwave wished it was in him to finally break down and start screaming until his vocaliser shorted out.

"—however, as former third-in-command and communications officer, I am privy to information that Megatron specifically entrusted me with. Other confidant: Shockwave. Not Starscream."

Soundwave stopped, the tips of his fingers curling into the berth's surface. The freshly repaired ruby-visor flickered and he continued to talk.

"I, personally, will submit to whatever verdict you and the Iacon Council pass over. Again, I repeat, utmost priority: Cassettes. Preference: Cassettes to be safely transported to your secured Neutral territory on the planet Tespin."

Not even Megatron knew of Tespin's secret. Soundwave never deemed it necessary to inform him of it either. Ravage, previously unmoving on the floor, raised his helm and Frenzy's protest was quite vocal.

"We never agreed to that!" Frenzy hissed as he levelled a glare at Soundwave. "Ain't gonna be shipped off to some dumb-aft Neutral planet while ya stay here with _them_."

"Tespin: safest alternative." Soundwave said, still staring resolutely at his bondmate. "Earth: dangerous for you. Megatron will not stop."

"I dun fuckin' care! Yer his bonded now...ya didn't get all the way here just to give up. Pit, I didn't shoot at Megatron just so I can bum around with Neutrals! We stick together, remember?"

"Frenzy. Silence. I have made my decision."

At that, Frenzy did shut up and petulantly presented Soundwave with his back.

Prime leaned against the wall as he watched the two argue. His optics were on the length of the berth and he refused to meet Soundwave's gaze.

"If that's what you want, we can take your symbiotes to Tespin. I can arrange a transport for them in about three weeks," Optimus finally said, his voice a deep rumble.

Frenzy made a rude-sounding snort, indicating what he thought of _that._ Prime ignored him and crossed his arms over his red chassis while he contemplated.

"Yes the Council will have to be informed about…all of this," the Autobot said, gesturing between himself and Soundwave. "I…could very well lose position of Prime. They are not nice, even to me. They'd rather rip the Matrix out and give it to someone more capable. And in that case, neither of us might get very far."

Of course taking the Matrix out meant certain death.

Prime's spark wrenched again in his chassis, painfully calling for its mate. It hadn't been that long since they'd bonded, and it felt like it'd been eons. Hopefully sensations like these would wear away over time and repeated merging, or they'd drive him mad.

Soundwave twitched, obviously feeling the effects of their desperate sparks. "Your Council is redundant and unneeded," he remarked.

"But until then, all of this needs to be kept quiet," Prime finished off, deliberately not allowing Soundwave to bait him into another argument.

A tingle ran up his backstrut then, like an unseen hand, and Optimus found himself being compelled to step forward. Prime's blue optics seemed to soften when he allowed himself to rest a hand over his mate's chassis, fingers sliding along Soundwave's neck, and after reaching up to remove his mask, he leaned down to let his lips follow their wake.

The life fluid pulsed erratically underneath the Autobot's lips, cables taut with stress and apprehension and yet Soundwave obligingly tipped his helm back.

"Did you not wish to allow this bond to erode?" Soundwave accused quietly.

"Being close like this…makes me unable to resist," Optimus replied.

The cables pulled tight along the line of Soundwave's neck strut, giving Optimus uninterrupted access to his throat. He lazily glanced over Optimus' shoulder, temporarily mollified by the much needed attention his mate was currently giving him. Buzzsaw, partially hidden by the Autobot's smoke stack was perched by the room's only chair. The narrow helm was tilted to one side, beak pointing down and the one optic that was staring back at them was bright with allegation.

"I will keep quiet of our... predicament," Soundwave settled with a soft sigh from his vents, his visor dimming with pleasure.

For now, of course. He was too numb from the recent events to muster enough enthusiasm to care about his own future and Optimus' hand felt so good – the simple touch radiating warmth that soothed his internals and made his spark yearn for more. As one who was more experienced with bonds, Soundwave knew that it was recommended that they merge again; to affirm their link as mates and calm their sparks down until their need to be close to each other mellowed down.

Soundwave grabbed the other mech's hand and pulled it up, the blue palm scraping ever so slightly against the repaired glass of his chest as he guided it over to where his spark was.

Despite how…sexually compatible they were, how well they played off of each other's desires, there was no doubt in Optimus' mind that Soundwave didn't want what they had just as much as Optimus himself didn't want it. Who would, honestly? A bond was taken into careful consideration after a couple fell in love.

Optimus sighed quietly, not out of exasperation, but of the…weird comfort being close to his bondmate brought. While at the same time, it filled him with irrational anger. The farther away they stayed, the more level minded he was. But, for now, he could indulge himself. Get rid of the itch.

Smoothly, Prime drew himself up on the berth, placing one knee on either side of Soundwave's thighs. He sat up, straddling the Decepticon's waist and gazed down at him for a moment. With a grunt Optimus settled over him, curling his arms to rest above Soundwave's shoulders. He rubbed his chassis against his mate's, dipping his head down to nip at Soundwave's jaw, kissing him.

Drawn by the sounds, Frenzy rolled on his side to look at them, just in time to watch Soundwave's arms wrap around Optimus' broad shoulders, one of the telepath's hands stealing up to rub affectionately at a blue finial. His mask retracted, the full lips immediately latching onto Optimus' own neck, denta scraping on one of the main energon cables before soothing it with an apologetic lick.

"Damn it, get a room!" Frenzy snarled, sounding absolutely scandalised.

"Frenzy..." Soundwave said as he pinched lightly at the finial he was fondling. "Watching is not mandatory."

"I can still hear, ya know!"

When he realised he was being ignored yet again, Frenzy huffed indignantly and turned away. Soundwave raised his knee, the bottom of his pede sliding onto the berth and arched his back. The flat expanse of his chest bumped against the windshield above him and Optimus' wipers caught slightly onto the lining of his tape deck. His spark swelled within its casing, pulsing in slow, _deep _beats. A tiny whimper, barely audible, escaped his wet lips as they smeared oil across Prime's mouth, hot puffs of air pouring out from his vents.

"I need to feel you inside me," Soundwave confessed with a throaty tone that he knew Optimus enjoyed.

It was horrible, feeling such emptiness within themselves. So famished for each other's sparks.

Soundwave could feel his lasercore shifting up within his chassis on its own volition, the plating covering it aching to open and bare itself. With a haze-covered processor and a feral growl emanating from his vocaliser, Soundwave snagged Optimus' bottom lip with his denta and bit down hard until he could taste the sweetness of his mate's mechblood. He then kissed him hard, practically trying to devour his mouth with his insistent glossa that forced itself past the bleeding lips.

Mollified somewhat with the task at hand, Prime ignored everything else and groaned into Soundwave's mouth. It was wet and sloppy and he shifted over onto his right arm so he could run his hand up and down Soundwave's side. He toyed with the seam of the telepath's hip, rubbing his fingers in a circular motion over the exposed wiring. Optimus felt Soundwave's glossa curl around his own, and he groaned again, surrendering himself to the feeling.

"Yes," Optimus replied in a muffled moan, rubbing his chassis down harder.

Prime could feel heat building in his spark, and the seams to his chassis parted. The Matrix glowed brilliantly, shielding Optimus' spark, and for some reason…it looked healthier. The glow of Optimus' spark in his lasercore underneath was a healthier colour. Brighter, and different somehow. The eye of the Matrix sparkled, but it didn't move. Optimus hummed deep in his throat, taking his mouth back. He shifted lower, running his mouth and glossa over Soundwave's chestplate, his fingers following across the golden seam that outlined it.

"Open," Optimus demanded, kissing along the outside.

Optimus pinched at the edgings, his hips unintentionally rubbing against his mate's.

"As my Prime wishes..." Soundwave murmured.

With a short grunt, the telepath placed both pedes flat on the berth, the tops of his legs pressing against underneath Optimus' thighs and pushed his pelvis up. He rolled his hips in the air, mimicking a dance that they both knew well and their hot panels bumped against each other. But his main focus was to hastily bare his eager spark to his bondmate; it was all he could think of and all he could ever want at that moment.

Soundwave's hands slid up Optimus' chassis, fingers tentatively hovering over the Matrix. Despite his fog-addled processors, he could honestly admit that the artefact filled him with unease… and with good reason too. It was powerful, dangerous and Soundwave was aware that he would have never approached Optimus Prime if it had not been the Matrix's reformat. But what was done, was done. So he dug his fingers impatiently into the twisted tendrils, stroking the circuitry and the hidden lasercore underneath. The Matrix vibrated when he touched it, its mysterious power tingling through the tips of his fingers.

"Give it to me," Soundwave groaned.

The smooth surface of his own chestplates split into four different sections, sliding and rotating out of the way to tuck in nearly against his chassis. Pale lip components twisted into a snarl, the visor dark and his lasercore was already up and front, its protective plates quivering briefly with expectance. Soundwave pulled Optimus back down towards him by his chest, cupping the Matrix against his hands until the light spilled between his digits.

Optimus grunted and recoiled, wincing as a flash of pain travelled through his neural net. The Matrix stirred and released another zap of energy, one that made Optimus hiss and lurch, and it finally started to slide up in its protective compartment above his spark chamber. He swallowed and brought himself down, down to kiss the hot glass of Soundwave's lasercore. Optimus shifted his weight over and cursed the small size of the berth when he nearly slipped. Fingers screeched down the glass of Soundwave's spark, and Optimus grinned as he saw his bondmate's golden spark flare because of it.

"Someone's eager," Prime muttered, grinning. He latched his lips on the edge of the small seam where Soundwave's lasercore would split and trailed his wet glossa along; slurping at it, rubbing his hips back down on Soundwave's in short, unintentional thrusts. "I'm going to have to teach you patience. Decepticons just want to get fucked right away…" he chided, curling his lips back so he could run the tips of his denta around the seam he had just licked.

Frenzy snorted into the plating of his arms, muttering underneath his breath. "Stay classy, Prime."

An undignified whimper gurgled past Soundwave's gasping mouth, optics flickering with pleasure. Who cared about patience when he felt his entire being gravitated to that one seam on his lasercore, the one that Optimus was so cruelly teasing him with his mouth. Everything was so sensitised and just one scrape, one lick, one brush of those lips was enough to render him almost incomprehensible; a wanton creature needing to be satisfied.

"Give it to me," Soundwave repeated urgently.

Neither of the larger mechs noticed how Frenzy had turned back to watch them, the small visor distinctly brighter with interest.

"Sounders can have all the patience in the world but he ain't got any when it comes to ya, _Prime,_" came Frenzy's petulant contribution.

"Decepticons: do not...ah!"

Soundwave's hands trembled against the Matrix, wordlessly urging it with earnest caresses to let him touch the spark within. His chassis was on fire, every cable, and tube inside him thrumming and his spark, oh Primus, his desperate, blazing spark demanded its other half. But Soundwave was determined to keep Optimus hanging a little longer.

"Decepticons: do not want to wait to get what they want," he finally managed to gasp out.

"Never saw him pull spike before or play with his valve... until ya two started fuckin' that is. He sure gushes a lot of lube though...but heh, ya probably know that already."

The telepath's words were husky, laden with static and lust. "Frenzy: keep your commentary to yourself."

Frenzy propped himself up onto an elbow. His gaze travelled from the trickle of oil that escaped Soundwave's lips and then stopped to blatantly stare at Optimus' open chestplates, or rather the twisted form of the Matrix residing inside. He didn't remark about that particular aspect however, choosing to follow Soundwave's movements as the telepath trailed blue hands down the Autobot's sides and up again, as if his fingers were magnetised back towards Optimus' still covered lasercore.

It wasn't often Frenzy heard Soundwave call out – to anyone – in such a needy way. "Prime…"

Soundwave was canting his hips upwards, pushing them hard against the mech prostrated above him, their groins grinding against each other and no doubt stimulating their interface components from the pressure. Frenzy would bet anything that Soundwave's valve was already wet and clenching in on itself, needing to be penetrated and that his spike was aching to be released. The Cassetticon already felt himself heating up fast from the erotic display the two were giving him.

The small mech then smirked widely. "I mean, he usually lets Ravage lick him whenever he wants to blow off steam anyways..."

Ravage lifted his helm with an ominous glare but Soundwave's vents cycled deeply, the heat pouring off his dark chassis in waves. The glass of his lasercore did part at that moment as he admittedly was at the end of his tether. Almost immediately, the energy of his spark seemed to leap out, blurring the slowly widening crack with its vivid light.

Optimus had never felt such a powerful force in all of his existence. His vents choked off with the rush of desire and lust that slammed through him so thoroughly that his panel opened and his spike was instantly erect. He jerked his hips forward, the underbelly of his spike sliding up against Soundwave's closed panel. Prime's spark chamber split open in a hurried rush and he could feel the magnetic pull of their sparks urgently trying to merge. The pressure was so great that Prime bent low, curling his backstrut so he could slam their chests together.

As far as Prime was concerned, this was the purest form of bliss there could possibly be. The pleasure vibrated through his circuits and all of his joints, filling the very fibre of his being with meaning. Everything was hot, and it felt so good, so intimate. And while he was not actively sharing memories with Soundwave, the mech's presence swirled around him in a miasma of emotion and lust. His hips jerked forward again, and Prime was at a loss with no wet valve to thrust into.

'_Let me fuck you_,' he pleaded with Soundwave over the bond. _'Let me fill you up with cum until you can't take it anymore,'_ Prime said, his disembodied voice echoing across the swirling torrents of energy.

It was that that broke Soundwave; the unfamiliar voice through his spark that shouldn't be there. It was the first time he had ever experienced anyone talk to him through his very spark, over a bond that _shouldn't fucking be there_. Reality smacked him in the face then, that uneasy and uncomfortable feeling that everything was so wrong even if it felt so right. Soundwave was so rattled by that fact, especially when the faceplates of all his previous Masters, all cruel in their own way, flashed before him…was Optimus Prime to be the new one?

"No...no, no, no, no—" Soundwave abruptly whimpered, somehow impervious to the sharp jolt of pain that charged up his systems in the most unpleasant way when he pushed Prime away to the foot of the berth, breaking the connection between their chests. His spark screamed, empty and wounded but Soundwave rolled to the side, trying to get away. The berth was too narrow and he crashed to the floor, panting hard for a moment before he scrambled up to climb onto Rumble's berth.

For a brief, passing moment there was fear. The symbiotes were alert, ready to defend Soundwave but he held an arm up to silence Frenzy from opening his mouth. Frenzy's jaw snapped shut with an audible click.

"I will submit willingly to your verdict," Soundwave hoarsely reiterated his earlier words, hands skimming over the tips of Rumble's pedes, as if to affirm that he was still there. When it was apparent that he had left his spark exposed to everyone in the room, he hastily had his chestplates snap shut and turned his face to the side in an attempt to hide his shame and vulnerability.

Optimus straightened himself up, only the edges of his knees left on the berth. With his spike still out, and his chest opened and exposed, he blankly stared at Soundwave before turning away. His spike retracted and his panel shut. The Matrix, however, wasn't pleased. It sent several painful jolts through his systems, and Optimus whimpered in pain as he tried to urge his lasercore shut. He would not be reduced to self-stimulation in the current situation. Optimus jerked as more white-hot pain assaulted his neural net, his lips curving in a grimace. After a brief struggle with himself, Optimus finally got his lasercore to shut. He turned back to Soundwave as the Matrix slid back in place over his spark, the crystal sizzling with angry energy, singeing the circuitry in the surrounding area. Prime then allowed his chassis to close.

Without saying a word, Prime turned on his heel and left, the door snapping shut behind him.

* * *

Optimus Prime had dealt with a lot of dissatisfaction and frustrated mechs and femmes in his lifetime. He had suffered through harsh criticism and outright hatred, even handled the deaths of close friends. Comrades that he would never see until he rejoined the Matrix to be with them.

However, Alpha Trion's disapproval was hardest of all to take.

Optimus Prime rubbed at his bare face as the large, imposing holographic image of the oldest mech on Cybertron hovered in front of him.

"You mated with a Decepticon," Alpha Trion spoke. The mech leaned back in his chair, his ancient face closed and distant. His blue optics were cold. Colder than Prowl's.

"Yes," Prime answered.

"Soundwave…his file is interesting. I wasn't aware he was sympathetic to our cause."

Optimus looked away again, his optics focusing on the light begin emitted from Alpha Trion, the lines casting interesting shapes on Prime's black lacquer desk. Half the questions Alpha asked, Prime couldn't answer. He didn't _know _anything about Soundwave.

"He's not, sir," Prime replied.

Alpha looked up from whatever he was observing off-screen to glare at Optimus again. "Please, explain this to me again."

Prime sighed and worked his blue hands together. "It was…purely sexual. A tryst. A while back I was out on the battlefield…one of the mechs had disappeared and we were engaging in a search. Soundwave found me and we participated in sex. After that it continued until I—"

"The mighty ruler Optimus Prime. So distanced from the war that you think interfacing with the enemy would be acceptable behaviour? Others have been executed for less," Alpha Trion snapped. "You shame the Autobots. You shame me, and you shame the name of Primus."

"I know, and I understand, sir. I have fully accepted criminal penalties," Optimus replied softly.

Alpha Trion said nothing for a long while. He gazed at Optimus and tapped his elongated fingers on his armrests. "If this was before the _Ark, _I would have had you executed myself. Such worthlessness and traitorous behaviour is not tolerated. However, we have little choice now, and no one to replace you. You're going to fix this."

A bubble of emotion was suddenly drained from Optimus. He looked up. he had almost been hoping for the easy way out. No more pain. It would have been nice. But they needed him too much, and Optimus knew that. There wasn't any possible way they could destroy him. Who would take command? Prowl? Who was so cruel, it would be anarchy within a matter of months? Jazz, who was unstable in the processor? Or Magnus, who was too hesitant to give orders?

Optimus drew in a deep breath and nodded. "Yessir."

"Sentinel Prime never did things like this."

"Sentinel Prime abused Prowl and fucked around with every mech he could get his hands on, including me," Optimus snapped back. "I'm not the only fucking Prime out of all of them who's made a mistake. Or were you too busy in your laboratories to notice whenever Sentinel had one of the younglings from the district smuggled in for his personal entertainment? I never asked for this. I never wanted to be the Matrix bearer."

"You dare—"

"Sentinel was a horrible leader with tires too big for his rims. Why the slag do you think Megatron managed to kill him so easily?"

"Enough!" Alpha Trion shouted, the word echoing harshly off the walls of Optimus' room.

Prime seethed as he looked over the table at Alpha's hologram. "Or would you rather have me go on about Nova Prime as well? He was a really good leader wasn't he?"

"Optimus Prime, _stop,_" Alpha said lowly.

Prime sat back in his own chair to stare away, his lips curved into a fierce scowl.

"None of the previous Prime compromised themselves like this. You've left the entire Autobot organization open for attack. What if Soundwave had killed you? Poisoned you? Ripped you to shreds in the middle of the night?"

Optimus shrugged one massive shoulder, a small puff of grey floating from his smokestacks. "I've grown indifferent to myself," he said softly. "Soundwave was fun and exciting. He was too obsessed to…really kill me."

A lie. Soundwave had tried, and failed.

"The Matrix, when we were together last, it took control of me, and it said Soundwave was my other half. It mated us together. I _never_ wanted to," the Autobot leader continued quietly.

Alpha Trion's optics gleamed as he rubbed the pointed end of his chin. "That's what makes this so…unique. The will of Primus having you mate with a Decepticon…it makes no sense. Soundwave…must be the one, then."

"I don't understand," Optimus replied.

"None of your business. For now, you have troops to address. You need to cement this relationship before the rest of the Council decides to act negatively."

Alpha Trion leaned forward and the hologram in front of Optimus grew.

"You tell them," the older mech firmly said, "that Soundwave was an undercover spy. Prowl and Jazz must know the truth, along with Ratchet, but the rest do not need to know. The information is top secret."

Optimus laughed cheerlessly. "You really think that the rest of the Autobots will believe that?"

"Why not?" Alpha Trion countered. "We have several sleeper agents already integrated into the Decepticon ranks. Soundwave's commonly observed indifference will help."

Despite Alpha Trion's conviction, Optimus knew that his own soldiers stationed here on Earth would never truly buy the lie. Not when they all had personally fought against Soundwave. And he knew that Soundwave would make things difficult just by being _who _he was.

"All right," Optimus wearily acquiesced.

"Where is he now?"

"In a private medical room with his symbiotes. He is guarded at all times."

"What…is his stance?"

The split-second image of Soundwave's mismatched optics flickering with fear before the visor hid everything away flashed through Optimus' memory banks. The Matrix then roused briefly, reminding him that it hungered for the telepath's spark.

"He ah, prioritises his Cassettes," Prime answered, just managing to stop his voice from trembling as he forced himself to ignore the call of his spark. "He seeks for their safe passage to a neutral territory in exchange for information."

The disembodied visual of Alpha Trion's helm moved back and his age-worn features smoothed back down to contemplation. "No doubt as Megatron's third-in-command he will have much to offer in terms of information. Take advantage of that opportunity, Optimus. For now, I will converse with the Council and you will introduce him to your mechs accordingly. Make sure that he understands the dire situation you've both put yourselves in."

"Yessir."

"I will contact you as soon as I can. If you're lucky, I will have convinced the rest not to _replace _you by then." Alpha Trion paused and he scrutinised the other mech, the blue in his ancient optics fathomless in the wisdom and knowledge they held. The harsh stare then softened, though only minutely. "Be strong, Optimus."

The hologram vanished and Optimus' chambers was bathed in a dim, weak light that reflected just how miserable he felt at that moment. He buried his face in his large hands, shoulders shaking with emotion. The entire world as he knew it was crashing down on top of him. He had sinned and now he was deprived of the reprieve he had been hoping for; he owed it to his Autobots to carry on his duty as their unfaltering Prime.

However, he wondered whether they'd want him as their Prime after this.

* * *

While he had troops to address, business to attend to, projects to approve, Optimus had one main thing looming on his processor.

Ultra Magnus.

Troop commander Ultra Magnus, located on Cybertron, had been Optimus' friend before he had ever become Prime. As young mechs the two had known each other, and when they were working the docks, they even shared an apartment together. After many eons of being friends, they had taken it further when they both discovered a strong, mutual attraction for each other. It was fierce, powerful, and Optimus loved him more than he could explain.

However, despite the fact that Magnus was a pillar of strength and a beacon of mech-hood, he lacked… a certain…pizzazz.

A flavour that Soundwave had been able to fill perfectly. If only somehow Optimus could combine Soundwave's sexuality and desirableness to Magnus' beautiful frame and charming personality…

That being so, Optimus knew he owed an explanation to his lover. A confession. He knew Magnus wouldn't take it well. Who would? The mech had no idea about Soundwave at all. Optimus had demanded communications silence from the mechs on Cybertron to those on Earth, omitting the officers of course. Rumours were not to be spread until Optimus could address the troops himself.

Optimus stared at the black screen in front of him where Alpha Prime's figure had been not long ago. A tiny green light flashed near the edge of the screen, and Optimus' spark twisted frantically for a moment as he worked up the courage to answer the call.

After a long moment, Optimus allowed the call to go through.

Even through the holographic image of the other commander, lines marred by the long-distance connection, the warmth was evident in Ultra Magnus' smile. "Optimus. It's been a while, hasn't it?"

"Too long, Dion," Optimus softly replied. The light from Magnus' image flashed across the surface of Prime's desk, cutting into the darkness. "I apologise for missing our last few scheduled…meetings. I've been busy with the Earthlings."

Optimus looked down, staring hard at his interwoven hands. "How are your forces holding up?"

"It's been…manageable. Elita reports an increase in Shockwave's warrior drones but nothing the femme squadron can't handle." Magnus' image moved forward and he lifted a fuzzy hand, as if to touch Optimus' face, though the hologram's projection was too limited. "And on your end? How have you been fairing?"

"We're doing well over here as well. Shockwave's stolen data has been most helpful to us. Skyfire and Wheeljack have almost completed a space bridge. Help will be on the way soon, my old friend," Optimus murmured, inclining his helm towards his lover. "It's been so long since I've touched you."

Ultra Magnus' square jaw softened when he gave a genuine smile at Optimus' words. "That's amazing news! We've had some Neutrals bolster our troop numbers, but you have no idea how happy I am to hear that you'll get that space bridge up and running." His voice then deepened with emotion. "That I will get to see you feel you close to me."

Optimus let a small smile curve his lips under his mask for a few moments before it fell away. "We have also had success extracting energon…I know the Autobots of Cybertron are desperately low. Soon things will start falling together. There has also been other…interesting news, but it can wait."

Optimus leaned closer to Magnus.

"Dion. How have you been? Find any attractive mechs over there?" Prime murmured, adding a chuckle afterwards.

The other mech smirked and as if playing a game, leaned back as the holographic image of Optimus on his end moved closer. "Come now, Orion. You know I'm not really all that interested in finding anyone. With the war and everything, I haven't really had time to look. But why would you ask?" The smirk tugged at one corner of his lips, widening. "Checking out the competition now that you might be seeing me…soon?"

Optimus would have died just to hear that Magnus had been interested in someone else. Even if it was just for interfacing. "A mech has needs," Prime said, shrugging his massive shoulders once. Magnus wasn't going to make this easy after all. Optimus suddenly looked away and put his head in his hands. "I've made a terrible mistake, Dion."

The playfulness etched on Magnus' faceplates slid away and he frowned, concerned at the remorseful tone in Optimus' words. "Come now, Optimus. I doubt it's anything that can't be worked through. We know you have a tendency to overreact and beat yourself over for things that usually are beyond your power," he gently chided.

Optimus laughed, and it was almost hysterical. Prime rubbed at his neck cables, his fuel pump making them pulse erratically. The Autobot leader looked up, his blue optics fixing on Magnus'. "I cheated on you."

Magnus' mouth tightened. "I don't expect you to remain monogamous to me, Optimus, you know that. Especially when you have such a burden to carry on your shoulders. I know your officers sometimes help you find…release." Despite the understanding words, it was obvious that Ultra Magnus wasn't particularly happy about it.

"It wasn't an officer, Magnus," Prime replied miserably. He took his hands away from his face and clenched them tightly together. "I…do love you Dion. I do. But you know as well as I how easily a mech can get bored here…especially me. Temptations everywhere."

Magnus' frown deepened. "I don't understand. Did you interface with one of your soldiers?"

Optimus' spark twisted into a painful, hard knot. "No," he whispered, barely audible.

And there it was, the concern completely leaving his old lover's face. "With the enemy then. For your sake, I hope it was during an interrogation session."

Optimus took his turn to look horrified. "No, Magnus…you know I wouldn't do that. I'm not like that. I'm…so sorry. I know you won't ever forgive me…but please understand this … isn't the way it was supposed to happen. It's not fair!" Optimus suddenly shouted before he looked away and slammed his fist against his desk, briefly causing Magnus's image to falter.

"I'll be the judge of whether you should be forgiven or not," Magnus snapped, and the frigidness in his voice could almost be felt through the connection. "So tell me, Orion, what _have _you done that's so terrible?"

Optimus looked at Magnus, his own optics growing cold. "I've been having sex with a Decepticon officer. He even has the codes to my escape door, so sometimes he'd sneak into my room at night and we'd interface. Want to know who it is? Or are you too above me to care?"

"Don't you dare say that!" Magnus yelled, the image of his face distorting as he made a rapid movement; presumably slamming his palms on the surface of his own desk. "Don't you dare fucking insinuate that I don't care, that I don't _love _you. I have always waited for you, always steadfast for you and this is how you repay me? By letting the enemy into your berth?" Abruptly, he stopped his tirade and his helm dropped, vents expelling heavily. When he glanced up again, his face had reverted back to an apathetic calmness. "So. Will you grace me with a name? Was it…Starscream?"

"No," Optimus quickly replied, sounding mildly offended at the thought. "And it wasn't Megatron either," Prime added on sarcastically. "Soundwave."

He could see how Magnus was trying to access Soundwave's file, and how the realisation of _who _exactly this Decepticon was and what he was capable of register on his face. "The telepath?" he hissed disbelievingly.

Prime laughed again. "And I haven't even gotten to the worst part yet!"

"Like the noble spark you are, you've fallen utterly and inexplicably in love with him," the other mech disgustedly replied. "And you hope to redeem him, and possibly yourself, by having him defect. Is that the worst part? Because I can't really think of anything worse."

Prime shook his head and pressed his face even closer to Magnus. "I felt guilty about the sinful pleasure I was getting from him. I could tell he was becoming obsessed with me, so a few days ago I decided to break it off and never think of it again."Optimus then leaned back and relaxed in his chair, gazing up at the ceiling. "Soundwave didn't like that. He wanted me for himself and _only _for himself, so he tried to kill me. We struggled for a little while until the Matrix activated. It took us and made us one. It said Soundwave was my match."

It was amazing just how many different expressions Ultra Magnus had shown since the beginning of their conversation. From joy, to concern and then to rage and icy indifference. Now he displayed an almost comical combination of incredulousness and horror.

The Autobot leader ripped off his facemask, sending it skittering across his desk and onto the floor. His lips were thin and flat, but they soon quivered. "The Matrix bonded me to Soundwave. We're bondmates. Alpha Trion has already agreed to the announcement that Soundwave was merely a sleeper agent."

"So you spoke to him already," Magnus hoarsely said. He covered his own mouth with his hand, as if unable to believe what Optimus was telling him, unable to deal with the implication of what he had lost. His features then twisted and he whipped his helm back to glare at Optimus. "He should have killed you, you fucking whore! You unfaithful piece of slag! You couldn't even keep your spike in your panel, you just had to go stick it in some Decepticon slut, didn't you! And now you're telling me that the Matrix _bonded _you two together? You expect me to fall for such a pathetic excuse?"

"I would only ever bond out of love," Prime said softly. "I don't love him. I barely even _know _him outside of sex—"

"Then why did you fuck him?"

"—I know I deserve your hatred," Optimus continued. "And I hope you do hate me for this, Magnus. I can't…can't – he's here right now you know. Off in the medbay in his own private room. The Decepticons tried to kill him when they found out. He has nowhere else to go—"

"He deserves to go to the Pit!"

"—and I have to protect him. If he was killed…the strain on the bond would probably kill me too."

"So what?" Magnus spat out bitterly. "Everything is going to fall into place now that he's there? He's suddenly now an Autobot, and now he's going to be introduced as your new bondmate and everything will be all right? Fuck you Optimus."

Prime fell silent, unable to look at Magnus in the optics, even though it was merely a holographic projection of his lover.

"I…no. Soundwave doesn't want this either. It would be best and in both of our interests if we could just split this new bond and move on!" Optimus reached out, his hands touching the holographic projection to that it flickered in between his fingers. "Please…Magnus…let me explain when I see you. Let me prove to you that I…I still love you. I've always loved you."

By now, the other Autobot seemed to deflate. The previous rage drained from his face and now he looked tired and just plain upset. "But your love for me didn't stop you from wanting to be with the enemy did it? What good will you proving your love to me be when clearly I wasn't enough?"

"You weren't here!" Optimus pleaded. "And the others…they weren't enough for me. Please, Magnus. At least take some time to think about it. Let me explain myself. It was an accident!"

"Don't you think we're beyond excuses now?" Magnus replied wearily, his tone defeated. He shook his helm, and the hand he used to rub at the crest was trembling…or perhaps it was an interruption in the connection. "Look…right now, I don't know what to say to you. I-I don't know what to think of all of this. You've betrayed me, Optimus. Just do what you think is best for our cause and hope that the Council readily forgives your…transgression."

Prime said nothing. He knew what Magnus thought and he was right. It would have been best if the Council decided to remove him. Optimus swallowed the lump in his throat and nodded.

"I understand. It is a lot to process. Go over what I've said…please. I'll call you again in a few days' time and we can go over it again if you'd like… if not, don't answer the call. I love you, Dion," Prime murmured softly before he ended the call, the holoprojector flashing dark and humming quietly as it powered down.

* * *

Rumble's bright red optics stared around the room in almost sparkling-like wonder, taking in every detail that the small private quarters offered.

"Autobots sure like ugly colours," he observed.

"Ya know, the colour on the _Nemesis _wasn't any better," Frenzy grumbled.

"At least it was stylish!"

Frenzy didn't offer anything beyond a derisive snort. He sat close to his recently-awoken twin, looking bored out of his processer. Soundwave sat perched on the edge of the berth and Rumble curiously picked up one of the wires that connected him to the medical machine that monitored the state of his spark.

"Leave that alone," Frenzy snapped, smacking Rumble's hand away. "Ya'll jinx it just by lookin' at it."

Rumble would have smacked him back but in his current state, he appeared confused instead. He then picked up another wire that was connected to him – though this time, it led directly into Soundwave's chassis.

"When can I merge with him?" Frenzy whined impatiently, his visor flashing with agitation.

Soundwave turned his helm to glance at the both of them. "Currently not recommended."

"Yeah," Rumble piped up. "Flashy-Helm Bot said that—"

"Autobot Chief Science Officer Wheeljack," Soundwave corrected.

"Whatever. Boom-Boom Bot said that Boss-Man and I should only stick with synchronising."

"Patience, Frenzy. Synchronisation with Rumble's systems will have to be repeated several times. Currently at 89%."

There was no warning chime. The door suddenly snapped open, and in the frame stood Optimus. He took in the scene for a moment before he stepped inside and allowed the thick metal door to shut behind him, the snap of the lock barely audible. Prime crossed his arms over his chassis and reached up to pry his facemask off. It disappeared into his subspace, and he started to speak.

"Soundwave, we have several things to discuss."

Then Prime's energy field washed over the room like a hot blanket, covering all of them with a fierce, no-nonsense sensation. Soundwave visibly stiffened and Optimus' optics glowed dark blue as he paced back and forth in short steps.

"Alpha Trion has agreed to your existence. He finds the Matrix's choice to be…interesting. The Council will be easily swayed by his opinion…so I am not too worried about their decision. However, once the spacebridge is fixed, we will mostly likely be required to…present ourselves. He also suggested that I announce your allegiance to the Autobots, or me, and insists I instruct the troops that you were a sleeper agent."

The Cassetticons remained wisely silent at the announcement, but they all looked at Soundwave expectantly, waiting for his answer. It was impossible to discern what sort of expression Soundwave had on his face, because unlike Prime, he chose to keep his visor and mask.

"I will swear my allegiance to you alone," he finally said and Rumble jumped a little, startled when Soundwave stopped their sync session and disconnected the wire from his access port. "Exchange: what we have agreed on previously."

"No!" Frenzy snarled.

"Silence," Soundwave said, without warranting his symbiote a glance. His visor was directly focused upon his bondmate.

Optimus looked confused for a few moments until he remembered. "You wanted your symbiotes to have safe passage into neutral territory?"

"Affirmative."

Prime stopped his pacing and came to a halt right in front of Soundwave. He rubbed at his jaw in contemplation. "This…cannot be allowed for…security reasons. Prowl would not agree to it. But it is something that can be arranged in the future."The large mech stepped closer until he was almost touching the telepath. "Why would you wish to be parted from your symbiotes?"

"It's his weird thinking that it's gonna keep us safe," Frenzy interjected, before Soundwave could reply. "What Boss? Ya think it's gonna make things up to us? We lost everything because of ya. No neutral territory is ever gonna replace what we went through because of ya."

"Beaky and Ratbat knew what they wanted," Rumble muttered.

"Yeah well, Soundwave's our Boss. We stick around, whether he likes it or not."

Frenzy's chin jutted out stubbornly and he turned his helm to look elsewhere, finalising his words.

"When I am terminated, I do not wish for them to follow me," the telepath quietly explained.

"Ch!" Frenzy said. "Fuck ya, Soundwave."

Prime covered his face with his hand and a gust of hot air flooded out of his vents, quickly heating the room. "I assure you, you will not be terminated. I have no reason to, and it would equally affect me. If your symbiotes staying would make you happier and easier to deal with, I would prefer that."

Optimus locked optics with Frenzy. "As long as they don't cause me trouble."

All Frenzy could do was just glower at the Autobot rebelliously.

The Autobot's blue hand reached out and Optimus gripped his fingers tightly to Soundwave's shoulder. "I've heard enough of your self-pitying words. Refrain from the language in my presence unless you want me to get very angry," the mech spoke, his words growled out. "I know life is _so _terrible for you right now, but it's far worse for me. I control a whole organisation. You do not."

The red visor flashed indignantly. "I do not—"

Optimus firmly planted his hand in the middle of Soundwave's chassis to push him on his back on the berth. "I'm sure Megatron will manage with just Starscream and Shockwave. Your existence has been diminished to the point where your only thought should be how to please me."

Soundwave's hands curled into fists and he gave Optimus a surlylook. "I will _not _be reduced to the status of a plaything. My function will be meaningless. Execution: preferred."

Prime chortled. The mech stared at Soundwave's body laid out before him and his optics rested on his chest where he knew it would part to reveal his spark. "You talk like you have a choice. I will tame you. Whether you make this easy or not, I will enjoy it either way. Open your chestplates _now_."

It had been unconceivable to the symbiotes that Optimus Prime would speak with such cold, unkind words and it was evident on their faceplates. But Soundwave hardly seemed fazed by this new display of Prime. He tipped his helm back, as if to stare at Prime from over the curve of his mouthguard in a contemptuous manner and pride overlaid his own swelling energy field. "Do not waste your words asking, Autobot."

Prime's lips twitched, but he did not look displeased at the reaction. "I thought I'd give you a chance to avoid some pain and humiliation. If your symbiotes interfere, I _will _harm them. And that would be a shame, because it would be too easy for me to do so with their inactive weapons systems. I always like a fair fight."

Optimus grinned and he drew his hand back to hit Soundwave across the face with a closed fist, causing the other mech's helm to snap to the side. He then ripped off the telepath's new visor and crushed it in his grip. "Again, I ask you to open your chassis."

"Harm them, and I shall kill _you._" The orange light in Soundwave's optics _burned. _He was practically vibrating with anger."If you are to violate me, at least oblige me by violating me as a Decepticon would."

Without preamble, he kicked the Autobot, shoving him backwards and away from the berth. "Do not interfere," he instructed his symbiotes.

"But Boss—"

All Soundwave had to do was throw a sharp glare at all of them. Even Ravage recoiled from the force of that look. Soundwave then gracefully slid off the berth to stand up to his full height, shoulders pushed back with his spinal struts ramrod straight. "Come, Autobot. Tame me if you can."

Optimus' own expression was cold and hard.

"As my bondmate, you will always refer to me as Prime, or Lord Prime. In private, you may call me Optimus."

Optimus squared his own stance and he glared down at Soundwave from his superior height. He threw the bond open suddenly and filled it with anger and frustration – everything he had been feeling for the past few days and lunged forward, his long fingers extended to grab Soundwave's collar ridge. With all the force he could muster he dragged Soundwave down to the floor until the telepath was hunched over on his knees with Prime looming over his other hand, Prime dug beneath Soundwave's back plating until he felt the smoothness of a tiny bit of exposed protoform.

"Do you understand?" he shouted.

Despite the position he was forced into, Soundwave uttered a ring of laughter that sounded like crunching metal. "I will not bow down to your oppression, Optimus Prime."

The assault of Optimus' negative feelings through their fledgling bond must have been draining on the Decepticon, and its sheer intensity made it impossible for Soundwave to block it. His vents made several choking hitches but he continued to stare upwards, his fierce optics always making direct contact to Prime's in complete defiance.

"Perhaps," Soundwave offered, "I can assist the soft-sparked Autobot on how to conquer his slave by offering advice."

"You're not even a slave, Soundwave. You're a useless whore whose life now has no meaning but to please me," Prime repeated slowly. "You are not a Decepticon anymore. You are not a communications officer anymore. You reside in my base, and drink my energon. You are _mine_," Optimus finished fiercely.

With a strong tug, Optimusdragged Soundwave forward across the floor and pushed on the back of Soundwave's helm until the mech's face was pressed hard into the floor.

"Very dignified now, aren't you Soundwave? All of this Decepticon pride in your energy field…it's amusing because as you know, they don't give a shit about you either. In fact," Prime leaned down as if he was whispering a secret, "I'm pretty sure they tried to kill you for being a traitorous bastard."

Soundwave trembled and the surface of the floor scratched at his mask, leaving dull scrapes across it. His energy field fizzed like a beast trapped behind a cage, shamed and yet simultaneously vexed and eager to maim. There was no appearance of his telepathy, but it rolled beneath a veneer of barely-there control.

"Megatron: derived amusement by invoking a gladiatorial survival game. I fought all of them," Soundwaveclaimed. "I fought all of them and I won."

Optimus laughed again, this time the pitch was higher and more pronounced. "Don't lie to me. You won with the power of the Matrix. I was there. I saw what you did."

The telepath's synthesiser distorted the purr he made, but the malevolence was evident enough. "Were you also there when he fucked me?"

Optimus' optics flickered in anger. "A pity good-bye fuck. How cute. Did it make you feel good? Did you love that Megatron finally decided to touch you again after so long? Did it make you feel wanted and special?"Prime's fingers which had previously been harmlessly enclosed around Soundwave's protoform now dug in harshly. "Because you're nothing special. You're not even that attractive. You're a slut who likes getting fucked. There's plenty of mechs _just likeyou._"

_That _garnered a reaction. There was a high-frequency shriek and Soundwave twisted, dislodging the fingers that had been wedged into his plating. It left a wound, but nothing that must have registered in the mech's hate filled optics. He grabbed Prime, his claws finding purchase into the various seams that made up Prime's chestplates and this time whatever control he held on his telepathy shattered. The telepathy flared out like an entity upon its own, though it was only for a brief moment before Soundwave's optics brightened with sudden shock.

The Matrix had intervened, using the bond to re-establish its presence back into Soundwave's spark and neutralise his telepathy.

Weakened by the abruptness of his most treasured skill taken away as if it was a mere toy, Soundwave stumbled backwards and crashed clumsily into the berth behind him.

"Foolish!" Optimus bellowed, advancing just as quickly as Soundwave had stumbled back. "You are a mere insect next to the power of the Matrix, no matter how strong your mind powers may be!"

Optimus was quick and decisive. He pulled Soundwave forward and dropped the mech onto the floor, and a moment later he swooped down to join him. "I will ask you to open your chestplates one more time before I force you! Do it!"

Soundwave's optics dimmed, the fire that fuelled them vanished along with his will. His helm rolled to the side and he saw his symbiotes from the corner of his vision. Frenzy had his knees drawn up, his arms folded over them and he was refusing to watch the debauchery that was going on right next to him. Rumble appeared horrified, unable to believe what he was seeing. The other two…were feigning disinterest, not wishing to be involved.

"Force me," he croaked with a burst of static. "Enjoy your victory."

"Gladly," Prime snarled back, as he straddled Soundwave and rested his core weight onto the telepath below. "Pity. You started off with such fury. Are you starting to realize that you are completely useless in this war now? You said yourself you were useless earlier."

With no more warnings, Optimus brought the brunt of his fist down on the glass of Soundwave's chassis. It withstood the impact, but cracks zigzagged everywhere, and it couldn't withstand a second hit, and shattered into small chips. The Autobot twisted off a larger one that was still mounted near the edge of the gold coloured band on Soundwave's chassis, then reached in and scraped the sharp instrument along the tiny seam in the back that would split to reveal the telepath's spark. He wedged the glass in with a squeal of metal, forcing the gears to work.

Prime paused and drew in a deep breath, concentrating. The Matrix was active already, eager, it could feel the desire of its owner, and easily obeyed the simple command. The foreign energy forced itself onto Soundwave's mind, searching for coding that would help Optimus.

After a few moments of nothing, the recognisable click of gears working filled the air, and Soundwave's chassis split apart in several complex manoeuvres and his spark was pushed up, flooding the room in bright gold.

Optimus had optics for nothing else, and his vents were expelling air even faster. It was obvious he wanted this, and still held the piece of glass in his hand, and with several gentle and harmless strokes, he drew it over Soundwave's lasercore. Prime's other hand disappeared into his subspace and he fumbled around for a few moments before pulling out a tiny black device with two buttons on it. One button was red, the other green.

"You're gonna love this," Optimus said, tensing for retaliation as he stuck the tiny device on the bottom edge of Soundwave's lasercore. "Wheeljack made it. If you attempt to remove it, it will shock your spark with a pulse of painful electricity. But mainly, it's for blocking telepathy." With nothing else that needed to be said, Prime flicked the green button with a digit, and then sat back on Soundwave's pelvic unit. "Open your panel."

For a brief moment, Soundwave lay there as he took in the implication what exactly Optimus had planted into his body. A short delay before the optics began to slowly brighten again as the realisation sunk in. The Matrix kept him from using his telepathy from harming Optimus but this foreign object sat inside him like a parasite, absorbing the energy his spark used to fuel the unique components that enabled his powers.

Optimus Prime had managed to exert the sort of control over him that Megatron could only wish he had.

Soundwave did retaliate then. He began to screech and thrash madly as his hands automatically went for his own chest, fingers scrabbling around for the device to tear it off. Static-filled garble that his synthesiser couldn't process escaped his vocaliser, mingled with unintelligible words and curses filled the small room. The mech screamed in pain when the device indeed did shock him, but it didn't stop him from trying to rip it off. He looked beyond any help; a wild, hapless creature that had been declawed and pushed into the corner.

"Stop it! Yer hurtin' him!"

Frenzy had jumped off the berth and he pushed himself between the two. He grabbed Soundwave's wrist, pushed it away to stop Soundwave from harming himself any longer, and then threw his body over the exposed cavity of Soundwave's chest, shielding it from the mech who trying to restrain his Master. Grounded by the sudden appearance of Frenzy, and perhaps fearful for his symbiote's safety, Soundwave quickly calmed down but he was visibly trembling and clicking.

"Frenzy, kzztt – interfering—"

"Ya think I'm afraid of him?" Frenzy addressed Soundwave with a snarl and then turned his burning-red visor back to Prime. "For all yer preaching of freedom being the right of all sentient beings, yer just like _us Decepticons_ain't ya?"

"Frenzy…stop…" Soundwave protested.

"Yer like the holy fucking light to those who agree with ya, but who gives a slag about them nasty 'Cons, right? They're all the scum of society anyways, right? Ya fraggin' twofaced fuck. At the end of the day, ya and Megatron are the same fucking thing. 'Cept, at least he's _honest _about it."

The small Cassetticon was sputtering with rage, and with his sonics disabled, all he could do was just shake as he glared up at the Autobot leader. Back on the berth, Rumble was kept from joining his brother by Buzzsaw and Ravage. His spark was too weak for him to even transform and the monitoring machine next to him was already starting to go crazy with his agitation.

Soundwave laid a servo on the symbiote's back, lest the small mech leapt up to attack Prime. "Cease," he tried to command, but there was no strength in his voice.

"No I ain't gonna stop! Sounders ain't worthless!" Frenzy screamed, parts of his face thrown in stark relief from the vivid light Soundwave's spark was emitting. "Ya don't know anything about him so who the fuck gave you the right to call him that? Plus that stupid Matrix didn't think he was soworthless, did it?"

Rumble spoke up quietly between clenched denta. "The Boss is the most useful mech I know. He's done stuff that none of ya could ever dream of doing and he sure as pit is more worthy than ya and all of yer rubbish Autobots put together."

"And for yer info," Frenzy added, practically spitting out his words. "Ya Autodorks look like the backend of a scraphaulin' truck _anyway_. And _you_—" He pointed an accusing claw at Optimus "—are a lying piece of slag. If there's so many other mechs just like him, how come ya were so into him?"

Their faces were so close, Prime could see the way Frenzy's optics cycled. However, the outburst had gotten him to stop, and he simply stared at the symbiote.

"He had worth. However, he abandoned that when he started interfacing with me, and Soundwave knows that. You can't get the best of both the things without consequences. A Decepticon such as Soundwave must be thoroughly dominated and humiliated before he is ready to submit to my will. Only then once he realizes his place will he be ready to slowly integrate to Autobot society. Soundwave must understand the rules, and he must abide by them."

Prime paused and sat back.

"Without Soundwave understanding these rules, and by extension yourselves, I can only imagine there would be underhandedness and possible harm to my soldiers. I have no desire to hurt Soundwave. You heard me ask him to obey. Those who do not obey are punished. It is a universal fact."

The small symbiote's mouth twisted unhappily, not wanting to comprehend the harsh consequences of his Master's actions. "Ya can't expect him to follow ya blindly like that! He ain't an Autobot. It ain't what he believes in! An' he's more than some drone ya can program to do what ya want!"

"Frenzy, please. Cease," Soundwave insisted. "Go back to the berth."

Frenzy whipped his helm to beseechingly stare at the other mech. "Boss ya can't just lie back like that and _take it_. It ain't who ya are—"

"Go."

Defeated by the finality in Soundwave's tone, Frenzy's vents hitched and he hissed out a crude-sounding obscenity. But he obeyed and reluctantly stepped away. The gold light of Soundwave's covered spark flooded the room, and its energy rolled restlessly, the tendrils weaving around each other over the surface of the spark before being consumed inside the turbulent mass. Soundwave turned his helm after making sure that Frenzy rejoined his fellow Cassettes on the berth back to Prime and he said nothing, but just stared with resigned optics. His panel clicked open.

With Frenzy now gone, Prime had an uninterrupted view of Soundwave's spark. His own pulsed with desire and longing, curling up onto itself in a painful way that made Optimus whimper.

"Soundwave. You understand why I am doing this, correct?" Optimus asked.

The ocular balls beneath the telepath's optics swivelled upwards, indicating that he had chosen to fix his gaze up at the ceiling. His hand reached up and his fingers scratched down the windshield of Optimus' altmode, seeking the Autobot's spark that lay beyond his grasp.

"Optimus Prime: the new alpha who will collar me," Soundwave rasped. "My new master. You wish to ensure the safety of your mechs by placing an unbreakable leash upon my neck. I understand all too well."

"In the future, you will be allowed more freedom as you earn it. Now, however, I need to keep you close…until I know I can trust you."

Prime's own chestplates slowly started to transform apart, shrinking into his chassis and adding to his bulk. Over his spark the Matrix innocently glowed, but it soon slid up and back, disappearing into the cavern of Prime's chest.

The pull between the two sparks was fierce, and Optimus's entire body was jerked down towards Soundwave's with the connection. The two closed glass lasercores squealed against each other, and Prime's panel slid open silently. Optimus drew himself back, pushing Soundwave's legs open with his knees and easily asserted himself in between. His spike extended, the tip already glossy with precum.

"Last time I allowed you to push me off. That will not happen again," Optimus intoned. "Do you understand this? You must always submit to me in this way unless I say otherwise. You must always do your best to please me when we interface, and in all other areas."

This time, Soundwave allowed the mask covering his lower face to retract – the last barrier of his defiance gone. He was panting heavily, his vents working hard to circulate the air inside his hot chassis.

"Yes, Lord Prime. I will never deny your needs," he yielded and without the synthesiser to distort his voice, he sounded a little dazed; a combination of fear, acceptance to his fate and tiredness at having to be tugged left and right by this unshakeable bond they shared.

The Decepticon's white thighs widened further, sprawling out to give Optimus more room between them and this time he gazed at his bondmate with narrowed optics, almost as if he wanted this ordeal over and done with.

"Good," Optimus replied. "You will hold higher rank than my officers, even Prowl. However, you must still be respectful towards them."

Prime's hand drifted down and he experimentally touched the outer folds of Soundwave's valve, pressing his fingers inwards to find that the telepath was completely dry and not even slightly aroused. The bulbous tip of Prime's spike spread the protective folds as he positioned himself and slowly pressed himself inside the warmth whether Soundwave wanted it or not. His blue optics flickered when their pelvic units met when he was all the way inside, their lasercores again only a short distance away.

Soundwave stiffened, his knees twitching slightly as the large spike forced his too-hot, too-tight inner walls to spread wide around it. He made no indication that he was in pain, though the tightening of his hands gave him away.

"Show me your spark," Prime demanded.

Prime was instantly obeyed. The semi-transparent coverings that surrounded Soundwave's spark slid away, and almost immediately, the golden tendrils rose up in an attempt to touch the other mech's lasercore. Soundwave's optics flickered in varying brightness, mouth parting from the onslaught of emotions that his spark unleashed. One of his hands managed to unglue itself from the floor and it latched desperately onto the plating of Prime's arm.

Prime's hips were still. He could not resist the call of Soundwave's spark in favour for other pleasure. His own lasercore slid back in a circular motion to reveal his spark, and instantly jumped down to meet Soundwave's. The pain he had been feeling, the tension, the hatred, it all vanished as soon as the two sparks melded together, and Optimus jerked his hips up in a deep, instinctive thrust.

Emotions floated along over the bond. Combined 's humiliation. The anger they both held at the situation they had been forced into. However, the fledgling bond was singing with happiness and joy at the two halves been made whole again. The Decepticon's sharp and dangerous fingers held onto him, squeezing his arms, trying to bring him closer. The merging was sweet, temporary relief at that very moment and it gave Soundwave everything he could possibly hope for, everything his body wanted to feel. The Matrix had made sure that they were thoroughly bonded, and that there would be no chance that their sparks would ever wish to survive without one another.

Soundwave's hips finally rocked up to meet Prime's thrusts and when the spike dragged out of his valve, its heavy ridges were already covered faintly with the beginnings of fresh lubricant.

"I am _not _a worthless whore," Soundwave hissed, and his end of the bond gave a pulse of strong determination.

"Then prove it to me," Optimus snarled back, his body undulating as he thrust into the rapidly lubricating valve. "Prove yourself that I won't have to watch you every second of the day."

Prime slammed his palms on the floor next to Soundwave's shoulders, while his elbows held the rest of the weight from his upper chassis. He leaned down and mouthed Soundwave's lips, refusing to fully kiss him and in response, Soundwave pitched his helm to the side until Prime just breathed into his audio. Soundwave's optics bright and intense and focused only on him and his full, pale mouth was wet with Prime's oral oils, working open with each hard thrust Optimus gave him. His lips parted when the Autobot's large spike fully hilted inside his clenching valve, the tip of his glossa just visible when Prime withdrew and he uttered a quiet, needy moan when that spike's ridges bumped over the ribbed lining of his walls.

The symbiotes watched, their gazes laden with a mixture of accusation and concern. "Careful Prime," Rumble said, his unrefined accent lilting with mockery. "Ya dun wanna fall too deep when Soundwave does prove it to ya. 'Cause then ya won't want to get out afterwards."

Optimus hadn't heard Rumble. He wouldn't have cared even if he had, not even when Soundwave began to laugh – a hollow, broken laugh full of irony. The strong thrusts had stopped, and Prime stared down at Soundwave as their sparks danced with each other in a sweet oasis of pleasure and joy.

"How are you to refer to me as?" Optimus demanded, turning his hands up so he could grip tightly to Soundwave's shoulders.

"My Lord Prime," Soundwave whispered as the last of his laughter died into a gasping moan, his lips falling open from dual pleasure he was receiving from the mech above him. "My alpha."

Optimus thrust his hips up hard to reward Soundwave's correct answer. "Yes. You will never hurt any of my soldiers or manipulate them. You _are_ allowed to interface with the officers as well, but you will never use your valve. It's mine. Now repeat what I have said," the Autobot hissed, burying his face into Soundwave's neck so he could bite at the mech's neck tubing.

"My Prime's Autobots: will not be harmed. My valve: belongs to you alone," Soundwave gasped, the energon running hot through the tubing of his throat.

Soundwave arched his back and his spark swirled around Prime's, staking its claim on it by encasing it completely in its possessive hold. The area between their conjoined interface arrays was already slick with lubricant, and wet sounds accompanied each motion Prime's spike made as it pushed itself in and out of the hot, soft hole it was fucking.

Optimus purred his approval, his lips finally searching out Soundwave's so he could kiss him. Pressure was building in his spark, slow but gradual and Optimus smoothed his glossa over the telepath's lips, moaning into his bondmate's mouth.

"Good mech," Prime breathed, his thrusts faster and harder.

Soundwave grabbed him then, pulling him down to continue their kiss. The pointed denta scraped across the thin dermalplating of Prime's lips and he locked his thighs around the mech's hips, forcing them to stop moving. A series of ripples ran through the Decepticon's valve, the numerous energon lines that ran beneath the thick lining pulsing rapidly and then the channel pulled tight, trapping the thick length deep inside. Each ripple and each clench pushed out lubricant that welled around the valve's rim from where it was stretched around the spike's wide base.

Optimus' thrusts became frenzied and erratic as the combined sensation of Soundwave's snug valve clenching around him and the deep, soulful pleasure of their sparks pulsing in harmony started to push him into overload. System warnings flashed on his internal display and Optimus groaned deeply, his face pressed tightly against Soundwave's as he thrust up a few more times, flooding Soundwave's valve with sticky transfluid.

His bondmate's overload followed simultaneously, triggered by the torrent of sensations that backwashed through the bond. Soundwavepressed his shoulders against the floor, pushing his chest out into Optimus' chassis. He keened, helm tipping back and throat cables stretched tight across the struts of his neck.

"Prime…" he called, optics lost at an indiscernible point past the other mech's face, the orange bleeding white at the edges.

The Autobot trembled, basking in the sweet sensation of Soundwave's valve clamping and pulsating around his spike. Steam hissed from his vents and he tilted his hips back, his wet spike dripping with a mixture of lubricant and cum. Prime shifted his legs so he was on the outside of Soundwave, then easily flipped the telepath on his front. The mech grabbed Soundwave's hips and pulled them up so his aft was sticking out at a high angle.

Optimus entertained himself by pressing his fingers into the stretched opening of Soundwave's valve so he could smear his transfluid over the mech's white thighs. Soundwave's hips jolted at the attention and he tipped his helm to the side, gazing over his shoulder at Prime from the corner of one slanted optic.

"Hold yourself up," Prime muttered, and shut his lasercore though a part of his spark was still visible.

Optimus grunted as he mounted his Decepticon bondmate, his spike sliding easily back into the drenched hole. With one hand on the ground to support his weight off of Soundwave, Optimus searched under the telepath until his fingers found his spike housing. Prime jerked his hips forward, grinning into the back of Soundwave's helm.

"Good. Now extend your spike."

The telepath made an irritated sound but he submitted to the order, his thick shaft obedientlyextending out into Prime's waiting palm. When Prime's fingertips touched the sensitive ridges of his spike, he pushed his aft back to seat Prime's spike deeper inside himself. More fluid was pushed out; a thick mixture of lavender-coloured transfluid and lubricant that streaked down Soundwave's thighs and dripped onto the floor.

"Big…" Soundwave praised as his claws scraped out in front of him.

At such an angle, Prime's spike pushed up to stretch his valve further and its rounded tip pressed insistently at the cluster of nodes at the top of his passage. With Prime's next thrust, that very same tip brushed against the opening inlet of his gestation tank. The sensation of that was intense and it sent a shudder through his circuits, causing him to cry out thinly.

Optimus' hand smoothed around the length of Soundwave's spike, his fingers tracing over the ridges until he came to the prominent head, and he allowed the tip of one finger to massage the slit. He moved his hips forward and started a steady circular motion, gripping Soundwave's spike tightly, the motion thrusting him through Optimus' palm.

"When you…obey me…I will always reward you with pleasure and attention. It will be the opposite if you displease me. Do you understand the simple rules I have laid out for you?"

There was a short muted squeal as Soundwave's knees slid further apart in the position Prime had him in. The wound Prime had inflicted earlier on his backplating was sticky with the mechblood that had dried around it and the paint on the metal was dull from where he had been taken hard on his back earlier. But Soundwave just moved with his bondmate's thrusts, fucking fervently back. Precum coated the Autobot's fingers, soothing the hot textured surface of his spike.

"I am not a pet," Soundwave moaned into his arms, unable to place any conviction or insistence in his panting voice.

Optimus stopped.

"You're right, you aren't a pet. You're _my _pet," Optimus breathed. He curved his neck and nibbled at Soundwave's jaw. "What are the rules I have been telling you during this entire session? Repeat them to me and I'll let you overload. If you do not, I will lock your panel shut."

Prime slid his hand along the length of Soundwave's shaft, squeezing hard at the tip.

"What do you say? Will you submit to me again in front of your symbiotes?"

"Cruel, cruel Autobot," Soundwave murmured, his body already trembling with the tension of his overload drawing near, and the high-strung pleasure that lay just beyond his reach. "Cruel Alpha. How you must enjoy subjugating me to your will. Very well. I will obey you. I will not harm your Autobots. I will never deny you. My valve is yours to fuck. I am a worthless, unattractive whore."

Optimus laughed, the sound vibrating through his chassis into Soundwave's back. "My…so full of malice. I love it," Prime breathed, the sound of their pelvic units scraping together filling the room.

Optimus drew his own knees closer together so he could fuck Soundwave at a different could feel Soundwave quivering on the edge, and Prime drew his spike out almost all the way, the rounded tip just inside the telepath's valve, and then slowly slid back inside.

"Do you want to cum?" he growled.

The valve throbbed, already constricting tautly around Prime's length and Soundwave's hips dropped a little lower, almost dislodging Prime from the wet heat that surrounded him. The device that he had implanted to block Soundwave's telepathy was not leaving him with enough energy but he held himself up with his sheer will alone.

"My Lord Prime's pleasure is my pleasure," he managed.

"Yes or no!" Prime shouted angrily.

"Yes!" Soundwave snapped. "I want to fucking cum!"

"Then do it!" Optimus snarled in reply, his hips jerking forward as he surrendered to his second overload.

Optimus' command was the trigger Soundwave needed, and he practically rubbed his faceplates into the floor's coarse surface, oils slicking around the corners of his mouth and down his chin. Unable to keep his body up, Soundwave collapsed.

Prime's weight landed on Soundwave too, and the pair panted in silence as hot air flooded the room from their combined systems. The Autobot slowly extracted his spike from Soundwave's valve and it slowly tucked away until Optimus could close his panel. He sat up on Soundwave's aft.

"You two behave," he warned Rumble and Frenzy. Optimus looked over at Ravage and Buzzsaw, but they still appeared to be uninterested in the entire event. "I'll be back later."

Prime stood up with no further words and left, leaving his bondmate lying on the floor.

For a few moments, there was no movement save for Soundwave's rapidly whirling fans and the light of his spark that moved around the various surfaces of the room. Then the button on the telepathy-blocking device switched to red and Soundwave lurched as his suppressed power surged forward. Overwhelmed by how much energy he had been expending just trying to break that hellish little contraption, Soundwave bent over and purged most of the energon in his tanks as his systems whined from the strain. Thankfully for him, it was merely a reaction from the negative effects of having his telepathy jammed so he didn't empty his tanks completely.

"Honey, yer new husband sure is romantic, ain't he? Watta dreamboat he is," Frenzymocked with a perfect imitation of one of the local drama shows they sometimes watched for amusement.

Soundwave spat out the last of the processed energon onto the floor at his pedes and then, in true Decepticon fashion that was more suitable for the likes of a Stunticon, spitefully kickedat the single chair in the room, and sent it spinning towards the regurgitated mess he had left.

"Shut the slag up," Soundwave growled back with an unpleasant tone that was full of grit.

But Frenzy remained unmoved and the corners of his mouth pulled down sullenly. "I can hear yer charming Polyhex accent comin' out there, ya know."

Soundwave snarled and dug his fingers into his own helm, gripping the angular finials viciously. His lips curled over his fangs, rendering the features of his face into something savage and primeval. The telepathy lashed around furiously and the symbiotes winced as they felt the effects of it, but then it steadily subsided as Soundwave's hands slid down to hide his face.

The navy-blue mech stood there for a long moment, vents expelling audibly. When he dropped his hands, he was noticeably calm again; mouth set in its customary neutral line and the optics dark and cool. He then promptly covered his extremities – chest, face and interface array. The visor lay broken further away from the berth.

"Rumble," Soundwave barked, turning around to face his symbiotes and crunching what was left of his tapedeck glass underneath his pede.

The still recovering Cassetticon flinched at the sharp call of his name. "Yeah Boss?"

"Rumble: requires further synchronisation sessions."

Said symbiote scooted further to the side when Soundwave sat down on the berth next to him and he gave the drying smears of fluids on the telepath's thighs a disgusted look.

"…sure," he said unenthusiastically and accepted the wire that Soundwave offered to him.

"_Submission to the enemy is a small price to pay_," Soundwave spoke directly into their minds via the telepathy. "_Difficult, long path ahead. Integration in Autobot high command: ample compensation. Given more power than I predicted.I will secure a position. I will rise_."

"_Ain't no higher position than Prime's bonded_?" Rumble tentatively asked over their synchronised connection.

The dermal plating around Soundwave's still-exposed optics crinkled a little and he sneered nastily behind his mask. He extended a finger and fondly stroked Buzzsaw's beak. "_Precisely_."

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Now that's a long chapter! Thank you to everyone who reviewed last time. And look, this has been our new quickest update (and longest chapter) ever! Things will soon be gearing up in Triviality-verse, now that all (well, most) of the main characters have been introduced! Fierce mechs hold Optimus's attention...who will win!

Also, if you review anonymously and ask questions, I have no means of replying to you!


	10. Chapter 10

Chapter ten

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Authors notes: Just so our readers know... we will never abandon this story until it's completed. Yeah, we take forever to update. I've been busy, and so has the other author, and we oftentimes can't push ourselves beyond some simple (but yummy) smut.

Anyways, thanks to: Chikku-Chikku (sorry I didn't get to reply to you!), Xenophobic Doll, Supermoi (so many reviews at once, we could barely keep up!), Autobotally45, toro red, Megacheesedoodle, aniay, and aquila333 for your wonderful reviews. They really are inspiring to us, even though it takes ages to update at times. But hang in there!

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That accursed, thrice-damned bond was proving to be too much. Soundwave was wasting enough energy just by trying to keep it blocked. He was in pain, his vents expelling super-heated air and his systems laboured as he dug his hand into this chest. The last thing he needed was to project his emotions towards Optimus Prime – and even if he were to seek relief from his bondmate, he would receive none.

"Hurry up," Soundwave wheezed, his orange optics blazing and overpowered like a pair of miniature suns.

"Nearly there," Frenzy assured between gritted denta, his words muffled.

The Cassetticon held two wires between his dental plates and their connector jacks stuck out from between his lips. The third wire linked him to his Master, a short but thick cable that wound through the broken glass of Soundwave's chestplate from where Optimus Prime had broken it earlier.

"Any luck?" Rumble questioned, practically squished from where he was kneeling on the berth between Ravage and Soundwave's thigh.

"Sure," Frenzy replied and he grabbed one of the wires in his mouth, this time connecting it directly to the telepathy-blocking device that sat close to Soundwave's lasercore. "It's a sneaky little fucker this one. It directly sucks up his power and stores it into a high-capacity cell, and then uses his own energy to shock him when the connectors disconnect. There's 'lil hooks in its connector points that shock 'im when—"

"Get it out," Soundwave said with a strained voice.

"Can ya access it?"

"Yes. Device: requires third party access. Rejects my signature automatically."

"Pah!" Frenzy spat out. "It's one of those types then."

Frenzy's mouth worked from side to side, his expression pulled in great concentration. Occasionally, Soundwave would violently twitch and he'd hiss loudly but it only made Frenzy more determined at his task. Electricity would arc over his fingers and Soundwave would double over from the electrical discharge his body would give out because of the device. Frenzy would then be forced to stop for a few moments, just to allow Soundwave enough time to recover.

"Continue," Soundwave ordered hoarsely after his shoulders stopped shaking.

"Boss…" Rumble worriedly began. "Ya sure ya can get—"

"I know what I'm doin'," Frenzy snapped. "Sounders, I'm gonna transmit the code over to ya so ya can help me out here."

Soundwave took a deep breath before nodding. "Affirmative."

"Yeah but if it's hurting him and if it won't come off…" Rumble argued and he glared at his brother.

"Continue," Soundwave insisted.

By the time Frenzy broke through the tiny device's defences, Soundwave was visibly trembling. The little symbiote actually managed to shock himself in the process and he let loose a short yelp as he fell backwards and off from the berth. Soundwave grunted when the wires were ripped from his ports.

"Fraggin' glitch-ridden piece of slag!" Frenzy swore up at the obnoxiously coloured ceiling from where he was sprawled out on the floor.

With ill-concealed glee, Soundwave was finally able to rip the contraption away from his body. He looked ready to crush it in his fist but then suddenly changed his mind. After staring at the small, innocuously-looking box that lay in his palm, he calmly clipped it back to his chest. Though Frenzy had successfully fried it, the telepath still needed to keep up appearances to the Autobots. He shut his chestplates and leaned back against the berth.

"Get up. Someone is approaching."

"I hope it's not yer charming bondmate," Frenzy grumbled as he jumped back up onto the berth.

"Negative."

The door swished open, revealing Ratchet with his nasal ridge stuck into a datapad he was holding in front of his face. The medic muttered something dark to himself before he looked up and his mouth parted slightly at the sight of Soundwave.

Ratchet said nothing right away as his blue optics assessed the damage on Soundwave's form. It wasn't too bad, but there were dents and mechblood. Not to mention Optimus' blue and red paint scrapes everywhere.

Clearing his vocaliser and waving the datapad in his hand, he said, "When I said to garner his attraction, this isn't what I meant."

The door didn't shut behind the medic, however, and in the frame, Blaster leaned lazily and couldn't help the slight smirk that curved his lips up at the sight of Soundwave. Next to the defensive telepath pedes, Steeljaw's optics glared into the room.

"Hey, hey, what's this? Looks like someone's not in the game," a voice suddenly said.

On top of Blaster's head a symbiote had crawled up to get a good view of the occupants of the room. It was Eject, and on Blaster's shoulder, Rewind peered in as well, the pair both instantly zooming in on Soundwave's symbiotes.

Ratchet raised his hand and looked over his shoulder at the two symbiotes perched on Blaster.

"Silence," the medic demanded. "I can handle this myself."

"Prowl said—" Blaster began.

"I don't care what Prowl said. I outrank you, now get the fuck out!"

Blaster shrugged his shoulder, still pointedly smirking at Soundwave before his overbearing defensive capabilities left the room as he turned and left. The door shut finally, and Ratchet heaved a deep sigh. Instead of heading towards Soundwave, he went over to the telepath's cassettes instead.

"How've you two shits been? Am I going to have to repair you as well?" the medic snapped before he grabbed Rumble's chassis and pulled the little mech closer.

"Hey!" Rumble yelped.

A tiny silver wire appeared from Ratchet's wrist, and he roughly removed a panel to reveal the shiny row of ports on Rumble's side. When the medical line plugged in, Ratchet reached over to Frenzy who was sitting protectively next to his twin. The medic gripped Frenzy's face with his other hand to turn the symbiote's helm from side to side before he let him go.

"Watch it doc!" Frenzy said loudly. "No need to manhandle the merchandise!"

After a few moments of discomfort, Ratchet disconnected from Rumble and pulled a cube of specially prepared energon out of his subspace. He placed it next to Rumble.

"Drink this. It'll help with your new systems. It tastes terrible…don't you dare spit it up," Ratchet warned him before he moved to the side to tap at his datapad screen with a finger.

There was a short stretch of silence and the Cassetticon twins glowered at Ratchet resentfully, hiding from behind Soundwave's bulk. Except for Rumble who was still hooked up to the monitoring machine. Then Rumble finally grabbed the small cube in his hands and took a sip. He made a face and stuck his glossa out.

Ratchet rolled the light in his optics and then turned around, and at that angle, was able to see the wound on Soundwave's back. His optics flared and he stepped closer, his fingers probing the wound.

"Your protoform is damaged. Did Optimus do this?"

"Affirmative," Soundwave said, obliging the Autobot by bending forward.

Soundwave didn't elaborate and he didn't need to. His exposed optics were dim and he avoided looking at Ratchet as much as possible, in an attempt to keep the medic's attention off his face. The damage spoke for itself; the plating warped from where Prime had dug his fingers into the seams of his back and pulled back, their edges scraped and scratched from where Soundwave had been fucked roughly on his back earlier. There was also a faint stench of electrical burning that clung to Soundwave's frame, from where he'd been shocked several times.

Ratchet made a noise in his vocaliser, deep and distinct. "We'll have to get you down into the medbay right away to have it repaired. It's deep…if it gets infected, you could die. Earth is a cesspool of infectious diseases…even for us."

At that, Soundwave slowly stood up. The Cassettes shifted; obviously ready to follow but he held his hand up. They stopped and obediently settled back in their places. Soundwave turned to face Ratchet expectantly, waiting for the medic to leave the room so he could follow.

In the medbay, Ratchet took Soundwave to a private room, with Blaster hanging around outside of the doorway like a dark aura. Blaster's hostile gaze remained fixed on Soundwave, daring him to make a move but Soundwave refused to meet his stare. Instead the telepath had his optics averted. Soundwave was strangely obedient when the Ratchet directed him to lie on his front.

Ratchet gave the Decepticon a mild sedative and began removing the plating around the key area so he could work unobstructed. When more of Soundwave's protoform became visible, Ratchet was dismayed by what he found. Long, thin wounds were criss-crossed everywhere, and it wasn't hard to guess what they were from. Ratchet touched a particularly deep one with the tip of a finger. The scar tissue was thick and hard. However, to the medic's trained optics, it was easy to see the wound had struggled with infection before it had finally healed.

"Was it Megatron who did this to you?" Ratchet couldn't help but ask.

"Negative," was Soundwave's laconic reply. When Ratchet didn't continue, evidently waiting for more, Soundwave was forced to elaborate. "Megatron: lacks patience for that. Cause: my previous Master. Discipline session."

Ratchet didn't expect more, and he didn't ask for it. Instead, he nodded his helm and probed at the scar tissue further to examine it. Once he was satisfied with the results, he moved onto the freshly damaged piece and began to tenderly clean the affected area with a solvent and a rag.

"I'm going to talk to him about this. It's ridiculous. I have enough work to do," the medic complained, his lips pulled into a deep frown. Ratchet then paused for a moment. "Unless you like being in here."

"Optimus Prime: my Lord and Master. My body is his to do with as he wishes," Soundwave said.

Ratchet did not pause in his work again and put the dirtied rags next to Soundwave's side. The wound was completely clean and ready for work.

"That reasoning might work in the Decepticons," Ratchet replied. "Here however, it does not. You have just as much value as anyone else."

The medic pulled out a small container from one of the refrigerating units. It made a small _hiss _when he twisted the safety cap off.

"Liquefied protoform filling," Ratchet explained, tilting the container over to Soundwave so he could show him the silvery substance inside.

Soundwave didn't say anything so Ratchet began to apply it in the small hole on the Soundwave's back until it was completely filled. When he was finished, Ratchet sat down next to the berth on a chair, waiting for the substance to dry and bond with the damaged metal.

"I know you don't understand now. But you will in time," the Autobot finally said, breaking the silence that had reigned in the small room.

Soundwave's fingers flexed against the berth's surface. The protoform filling was causing quite a bit of discomfort as the molecules began to bond into his own living metal.

"Lord Prime," Soundwave began and his monotone really emphasised the blankness in his voice, "has specified that I am here under his grace alone. My current value: nil."

Ratchet mulled over Soundwave's words for several moments, looking back to the opened door. Blaster was not actively looking through, but Ratchet knew he was standing right by the doorframe. He stood up and palmed the door close. Ratchet then returned to his spot and moved his chair closer to the berth.

"I think you need to know some things. Very important things that I'm not happy about and a lot of the others aren't happy about either. You can tell everyone I said these things and I'll deny it up and down…and make your life miserable. Do you understand that?"

One of Soundwave's bright optics cycled into focus as he transferred his attention onto Ratchet. "Correction: Autobot CMO's word above mine. Implications: understood."

Ratchet stared hard at Soundwave's face for a few moments, and then he leaned forward to start speaking in a low whisper.

"A long time the Autobot Council has been ruled by someone other than themselves. We, _I_, suspect this, along with a few other commanders. We're not sure by who, or for what reason, but it's become plainly obvious to me that the Autobots have been infiltrated from deep inside."

Ratchet's optics flickered and he looked away for a moment to take a deep breath.

"I know this is a fact. I served under Sentinel Prime, I've seen the way the Council has…changed. How Optimus has changed. Once, when I was repairing him late at night from a wound to the chest, I could feel this strange and dark energy being emitted from the Matrix. Optimus used to be so kind…now though…he is twisted and dark."

Soundwave's stare was unnerving. "Why are you telling me this?"

Ratchet reached out and brushed a hand across Soundwave's dermal plating. "I think you've been dragged into something _very_ huge. I feel you had no prior knowledge of this, and I feel you deserve to know." The medic then looked beseechingly at him. "Please. If you know this is the Decepticons' doing, you _must _tell me. The few who have been questioning the Council's actions have been…_disappearing_."

At this, Soundwave laboriously pulled himself up into a sitting position. Though his lower face was hidden behind the curve of his mask, his optics were surprisingly expressive. "Permission needed to ascertain the truth of your statement."

Ratchet cocked his head to the side for a moment until he understood and nodded. "I have nothing to hide."

The telepathy manifested within Ratchet's cortex so smoothly that it gave the impression it had always been there. With amazing precision, it plucked out the knowledge it required before it sought out Ratchet's intentions.

"I have no recollection or information of the Decepticons controlling the Council," Soundwave finally said after he had stopped sifting through Ratchet's head. "If they are, then they would have acted differently. This is not their style. Nor Shockwave's." Soundwave paused for a moment and settled his gaze elsewhere in the room before adding, "I have felt the Matrix. It is not an experience I ever wish to repeat."

Ratchet seemed to slump over in relief. But at the same time, this newfound knowledge brought many more questions to his mind.

"I shouldn't have spoken to you about those things," Ratchet said suddenly, his optics bright. "Vector Sigma will know. He'll know that I told you."

The medic wiped a hand across his face.

"You know now what I suspect. You cannot pass this information on to _anyone _else. Do you know how upset the Council is over you? A telepath in their midst? They would have found Optimus Prime bonding with Megatron to be more acceptable."

The digital notes of Soundwave's odd laughter filled the room. "Optimus Prime having me on a leash: a great tactical advantage. Cease worrying: I can easily erase this session from my memory banks and place it into storage."

"If you are comfortable with the knowledge that your bondmate is being forced into actions that aren't his own, that he's basically … a drone, then I can't make you care otherwise. However, they will never accept you. They will have others watching you all the time. In the end, well… I don't know. I am surprised I haven't been…caught for treason already. I have spoken about this issue to a few others."

"Medic," Soundwave interjected. "If my bondmate had it his way, I would be either shackled to his berth as his whore or executed by his servo. Please do not insult me by insinuating that I am not aware that I will be watched. I am not a mech that is to be trusted or accepted. And vice versa. It is what has kept me functioning since my creation."

"I'm not insinuating that you don't know you're going to be followed around," Ratchet said.

Now frustrated, Ratchet stood up to look at Soundwave's back, finding that the filling was completely dry. He took a metal sanding block out of his subspace and gently began to file down the uneven edges until it was just as smooth as the rest of the protoform.

"I'm just worried for my own safety. The safety of those I care about. I know that the Council has been concentrating closely on me lately."

"Then you would do well to keep your mouth shut on this matter," Soundwave said. He tapped the tip of his index finger on the berth, placing emphasis on his words. "Location: your ensuring safety. Earth's remoteness and your high status help keep you alive. Your disappearance would not be taken well."

Ratchet's lips twitched, but he didn't say anything else as he clipped Soundwave's plating back into place. The bulky medic reached up and patted Soundwave's helm, however, it wasn't done in a condescending manner.

"Okay youngling, you're all fixed up. I've got the measurements for your tapedeck, but you'll have to wait until that's repaired. Tell Prime the next time he does that I'll kick him where it hurts."

The orange optics flared with annoyance at being called 'youngling' but Soundwave didn't say anything beyond that. He slid off the berth to stand up with one quick, graceful move before tilting his helm to one side.

"I require a new visor. Current one: unsalvageable."

Ratchet turned from where he was cleaning up the mess from the simple procedure.

"You'll understand that I don't keep red visors in stock, Soundwave. I might have a blue one somewhere. Otherwise you'll have to ask Jazz if he has one."

"I have no preference in the colour," Soundwave dispassionately stated.

And he stood there, waiting.

Ratchet seemed surprised at the statement. "I figured you Decepticons were all die-hard for red optics and visors. But sure, I'll ask Jazz for you."

"Unnecessary," Soundwave promptly answered, not appearing particularly bothered. "I will make one when provided with the materials."

The medic palmed the door open, and the pair stepped out to Blaster, who was leaning against the opposite wall with his arms crossed. He looked extremely bored, though his optics still followed Soundwave like a cyber-hawk when the telepath turned to unhurriedly walk back to his room.

* * *

The Autobots' third-in-command stormed into Prowl's office with his plating gleaming harshly under the bright lighting, clashing horribly with the orange walls. Prowl on his part didn't even warrant his fellow officer with a glance. The tactician just seemed fixated on whatever was written on his datapad.

Jazz placed his palms on the edge of the desk and hunched his shoulders inward so he could lean forward. "What's going on, Prowl?" He leaned down even further, deliberately pushing himself into the other mech's personal space. "Or rather I should ask, what's going to happen?"

Prowl sighed, as if he was dealing with a rude sparkling. "Do you_ mind_?"

"Mind what, Prowler?" Jazz asked, with thickly faked innocence and an equally fake smile.

It was then that Prowl abruptly tossed aside his datapad with a sharp intake of air through his vents. He glanced up irritably. "It depends upon the Council and Prime, not us."

"What? That's it?" The smile slid off Jazz's faceplates, replaced by a very cold expression instead. "We have slagging' _Soundwave_ here and just so you know, Megatron is _not _happy about it. Prime's off somewhere and it ain't here in the present with us and oh…I nearly forgot. Something about them being bonded? Compute that, if you please."

Prowl leaned back in his chair, working his shoulders from side to side so his doorwings could be properly positioned. "Well, yes, it is that simple. I'm refusing to overanalyse the situation until I've been debriefed by Prime. And since he's currently—" Prowl tapped a key on a holopad in front of him and an image popped up, "—sulking alone in his room, presumably crying to Magnus and begging for forgiveness , we have no choice but to wait. Soundwave's watch has been posted, Ratchet's been tending to him…there's nothing else to do."

Jazz's expression did not change for a long moment. He straightened up from his menacing pose and wiped a heavy hand over his face, knocking his visor askew. "Prowl. You don't seem to understand the… gravity of the situation. We don't even know if Prime's been compromised, or if Soundwave has an infectious disease, or—"

"Or what?" Prowl snapped, cutting him off. "It is what it is."

Jazz jabbed a finger forward, dangerously close to Prowl's face. "You're acting stupid. Have his mind powers affected you already?"

The offending finger was smacked away. "Don't be idiotic. I'm perfectly sound." One of Prowl's icy optics brightened. "Have _you _been affected by his mind powers?"

There was a derisive scoff. "Oh please, don't start. I'm not in the mood."

Prowl diverted his attention back to his datapad. "Well that settles it. I'm not in the mood either. Goodbye, Jazz."

But Jazz refused to leave or take the bait. "Has Ratchet told you how…?" He paused, his lips twisting briefly. "How complete the bond is?"

"Too complete to break," Prowl answered promptly. He quirked his lips in displeasure, tapping his fingers on his desk. "For the time being, Jazz, you need to obey your superior officer when he gives you an order. Prime will debrief us when the time is right."

The saboteur did not appear at all impressed or satisfied with the answer he got given.

"There you go again," he sighed dramatically. "Completely out of touch with reality." Jazz's voice hardened. "Do you even know what's going on out there? The crew is edgy and their curiosity is gonna get the better of them so if Prime delays, then there's a big fat chance that Megatron will do the grand announcement for us. And he ain't gonna soften the blow. Have you spoken to Prime at all? Or do I have to do the work around here?" he added snidely.

Prowl appeared offended at the words, and he slapped his palm down harshly as he stood up. This time he was the one pointing the finger – right into Jazz's curved chassis.

"I know how to do my job," he said aloofly, pushing the saboteur back with pure strength alone. "I know you think you're superior to me, whether or not that's due to our past personal relationship I don't know. However, I _am _second-in-command, and you will treat me as such. Badmouth me in private, soldier."

Jazz's visor brightened at one edge, giving him an almost haphazard look. He glanced over his shoulder, then casually looked around the room before settling his gaze back onto Prowl.

"But we are in private, sir," he smirked. "You frigid bitch."

Prowl's expression was mutinous. "You are close to the end of my patience, saboteur," the tactician hissed.

Jazz continued to smirk insolently. Then Prowl changed his tune.

"You'll never fuck me again," Prowl said lowly, and smoothed his palm over the metal of Jazz's chest from where he'd been jabbing at it earlier. "I know you want to… I can taste it when you get like this."

Jazz's smirk vanished.

The saboteur's energy field rippled aggressively and he grabbed the hand that was on his chestplate, squeezing the digits harshly in his palm as he yanked Prowl towards him. Prowl's mouth twisted, parting so he could protest but Jazz cut him off by kissing him. It was hardly a kiss however, more like Jazz seeking to conquer Prowl's mouth by shoving his glossa inside and slanting his lips wetly against the other mech's.

"You slagging—" Jazz abruptly broke away with a loud curse and held his hand up to his bleeding lip.

Prowl had bit him.

Prowl smirked and licked Jazz's blood from his lips. He padded slowly around the desk, his blue optics locked on Jazz's visor. The tactician stood close, letting Jazz feel his arousal and resentment.

"Were you imagining me on my knees? Or on all fours like Prime's so fond of? Or perhaps it was something even darker…I can make all of your wishes come true once you submit to me and admit that I am your superior."

Jazz stared intensely for a moment before he began to chuckle. "Please. I ain't that desperate to fall into your trap. You're just three layers, Prowl. And I deconstructed you long ago. Peel them back and underneath you're nothing. I think you know that better than anyone else."

Jazz then smiled sweetly, the sort of smile he usually gave his enemies before attacking them. Prowl smiled back at the words and edged himself on the top of his desk to pull Jazz forward.

"You know me just as well as I know you," Prowl whispered, drawing his hand across the saboteur's abdomen to touch his codpiece. "You know that I want power…and I'll do anything to get it. But you… you weren't ever good enough to compete with me. That's why I ate you up and took second-in-command from you. Don't forget—" Here Prowl dug his sharp tipped fingers hard into Jazz's protoform from underneath a piece of armour, "—you have problems too."

One of those mentioned problems manifested itself when Jazz actually leaned into Prowl's hand and gurgled out a moan from his vocaliser. But he was still smiling, and it was now a full-fledged grin that stretched his mouth across perfect, white denta.

"You know…" Jazz drawled out, deliberately grinding his interface panel against Prowl's. "That we both lucked out there. That 'Con leapt over both of us and managed to snag the first prize." His nasty grin indicated that he knew something that Prowl did not.

"Oh Jazz…if I had been pursuing Optimus Prime, I would have bonded with him long ago," Prowl replied, unimpressed with Jazz's new tactic. "If Optimus has to bond with a Decepticon in order to get off the way he wants to…good for him. That's all that Decepticon is… a sex thing."

With that, Jazz managed to dislodge himself from Prowl's clutches and he stumbled a little backwards.

"Yeah…ya really think Soundwave is going to remain just that. He already got this far. I don't think you get how _toxic _that mech is. I know. I've _seen _it. But if you wanna continue thinking that Soundwave ain't a threat while you sit here in yer neat office, then hey, knock yourself out. When he finally has Prime under his control, I won't even grace you with an 'I told you so'."

Prowl's sneer was harsh. "If you think I haven't calculated all the outcomes a billion times, you don't know me as well as you think you do. We must take advantage of the situation. Gather information. Soundwave's true intentions must be discerned somehow, by any measure necessary. I will rip apart his cpu myself if I have to. He _is _dangerous…however, we must know if Prime can control him. If he can, the danger will be significantly less."

Jazz just snorted contemptuously.

Undeterred, Prowl reached out and grabbed at Jazz's panel one last time. "Don't you want to fuck me, saboteur? But I suppose you aren't mech enough, are you?"

"Nah. I'm afraid that if I stick it in there, my cock will get bitten off," Jazz said flippantly.

"Shame," Prowl replied, and shrugged a shoulder. "All this arguing and posturing has me dripping wet."

The tactician pushed himself off from his desk and straightened up. Just as he did so, the officers' channel came to life.

"_Requesting Jazz, Prowl, Ratchet, Ironhide and Red Alert to the conference room immediately_," Prime's voice came.

Prowl's optics flickered and he smiled at the news. "We'll get our answers soon enough."

Suddenly, Jazz grabbed Prowl one last time. He shoved his hand between the other mech's thighs to squeeze the hot panel, making sure to place pressure where he knew Prowl's valve would lay directly underneath.

"Don't underestimate him, and never think that you have him under control," Jazz hissed out warningly, pushing his face up close. "This isn't Starscream we're talking about. Soundwave will make you think you've gotten the upper hand and he'll end up twistin' you around, feeding you what he wants you to believe even while your calculations are telling you you're winning. Trust me, tactician. You don't know what the fuck he's capable of."

With that, Jazz gave Prowl one final push and he turned around, leaving his superior's office with a hiss of the sliding doors.

"Right," Prowl snapped at the empty room. "How did I _ever _manage to survive through two wars?"

* * *

The grim faceplates of his fellow officers greeted him the moment Jazz stepped into the conference room. Prowl entered the room a several scant seconds later and veered off to the opposite direction so he could take his customary position close to the head of the table. Red Alert gave the saboteur a passing glance as Jazz padded by him so he could take the seat next to him.

"So," Jazz began, his normal cheerful smile twisting into a wry smirk. "Anyone got a clue what's up?"

Ratchet just gave him a look, which Ironhide bluntly translated into, "Take a wild guess."

Prowl tapped his fingers against the table. "I think it's best we refrain from speculating until we have been debriefed, Jazz."

The saboteur shot his superior a dark look, but said no more. Ratchet hummed in agreement with Prowl. Of course the other mechs at the table knew that Ratchet was privy to most of the new sensitive information that had developed, but they also knew he kept it to himself.

"Slaggit, where'd that mech run off to?" Ironhide grumbled in irritation.

Seemingly knowing when to show up, the doors slid open and all the officers looked over quickly to see Optimus Prime walk in. He called out a greeting to them as he approached the table, but it lacked enthusiasm. The large mech seated himself heavily in his chair and set a datapad he had been holding down in front of him.

Prime drew in a deep breath. "I know everyone here has many questions for me, but feel assured that I will answer them all to the best of my abilities."

Ironhide leaned up and craned his neck so he could see around the bulk of Ratchet's chassis. "Then perhaps you can start by explaining why there's a Decepticon with his own little room in the officers' hallway."

Prime's optics flared in annoyance. "Soundwave's presence here is not harmful. Everything will be explained."

Jazz barely hid a scoff. "How do _you_ know that?"

Red Alert felt it was his time to add to the conversation. "Why is he allowed his own room? This is a major security issue! His symbiotes can run around where they please! He should be locked up in the brig until we can find a way of dealing with him."

"Soundwave has officially defected from the Decepticons," Prime said, carefully keeping his tone even.

Jazz's smirk grew a little sharper. "We know that already, Boss. Megatron's already went up and put a big fat bounty on him."

"Soundwave has also agreed to pass on all the information he knows," Prime continued.

"So he _claims_. Soundwave could easily be leading us into a cleverly constructed ploy," Red Alert insisted, leaning a little forward onto the table.

Ironhide spoke. "Yeah, Prime…Primus knows that this is the first time ever, but I gotta be with Red over here—"

Red Alert promptly glared at Ironhide, who appeared completely unaffected by it.

"—I mean, a 'Con is a 'Con and in this case, it's _Soundwave. _How can ya be sure that he isn't going to turn on us?"

Prime's voice was resolute. "Because he swore allegiance to me."

Ratchet, who had been silent the entire time, allowed himself a small smirk. "I've been tending to Soundwave and his symbiotes. He has been nothing but cooperative and helpful with me."

Prime gave Ratchet a grateful look. "Soundwave has been working for us undercover for quite some time—"

"Under _whose _orders?" Jazz tightly cut in, his tone high. "I have no knowledge of this!"

"Under _my _orders, Jazz," Prime replied steadily, though Ratchet could see the way Prime was tapping his fingers was indicative of a lie.

"Slag! Complete slag!" Ironhide declared hotly, slamming his heavy fist against the table. "Tell us the truth, Prime. We're too damn old to fall for that."

"Silence!" Prime bellowed, and instantly the bickering ceased. With a sigh, the mech slumped back into his chair and rubbed at his face mask. "Soundwave and I…have been engaging in…a relationship with each other for quite some time."

Everyone at the table had stilled completely. Even those who knew the circumstances did not say anything.

"It was not political in nature, nor was it about the difference in factions. However, I _have _been able to gather useful information from him. Once I felt that he had given me all that he could, I was prepared to end it. However, the Matrix…would not allow it. It forced Soundwave and I to permanently bond."

"The Council," Ratchet asked cautiously. "What did they say?"

"They uh…" Prime sighed and forced himself not to look away from their stony faces, "advised me to state that he'd been working for us the entire time. Alpha Trion was fully informed about the situation… he said it was interesting in regards to the Matrix. However, I understand that my actions are constituted as treasonous, and am currently awaiting the death penalty… or their explicit approval."

Ironhide leaned back in his chair. "Well that's…that's it, is it?"

Prime's blue optics flashed over to Ironhide. "Yes. That's all there is to it at the moment."

Red Alert wasn't as charitable. His optics were dark and his expression was disapproving. "You revealed Autobot secrets to him?"

Optimus Prime raised his hands defensively. "No! I would never betray the organisation that I love and serve for life."

Prowl, who had been diligently taking notes, raised a hand for silence from the others. "However this may seem on the outside, I see potential for much good to come out of this. Soundwave is a high ranking Decepticon…not to mention a telepath _and _an excellent communications officer. He can give us invaluable knowledge. And as Prime's bondmate, his own fate is tied to Optimus'."

"What's not to say that he won't just off himself to get rid of Prime?" Jazz asked.

Optimus could finally add in something helpful. "He treasures his symbiotes. If he were to die, they would too."

Jazz looked unimpressed at this knowledge.

"We also have Blaster…is he effective against Soundwave?" Prowl wondered out loud.

"Yes," Ratchet replied. "He has been watching Soundwave carefully."

"In the end, Soundwave has sworn fealty to me. As my bondmate, I am inclined to believe him. I _know _him. He cares for me too much to kill me..."

Jazz pursed his lips. "He loves you."

Ironhide snorted incredulously at the implications of Jazz's statement.

"No, but we… we're close to each other in a way I can't explain," Prime hurriedly said.

Red Alert had his optics covered with one hand, as if he was unable to comprehend the massive security breach that just slapped him in the face. Ratchet frowned at the Security Director, concerned that the red horns were going to start emitting sparks.

"With all due respect, sir… out of all the Decepticons you had to go with…why _him_," Red Alert muttered hoarsely. "The worst possible choice you could have gone for next to Starscream. You couldn't have gone for one of the lower ranked ones who wouldn't know what a security algorithm was even if it bit them on the aft…"

"Well, could have been Megatron. Then we'd be in a load of slag," Ratchet replied, and reached over to pat Red Alert on the shoulder. "Don't get too worked up…I've had enough fun in the surgery bay today," Ratchet muttered, giving a pointed glare to Optimus.

Ironhide clicked his glossa. "He means to say he ain't fixin' ya if ya glitch."

Prime rubbed at his face mask again. "I'll take open questions now."

With a creak of his joints, Ironhide shifted his sturdy frame on the chair and turned to face Prime fully. "Yeah, I got a question," he said, tone just beginning to border on insubordination. "Was he worth it? Can't imagine anyone being _that_ good of a fuck for you to risk everything."

The mechs in the room remained silent and expectant, and the filtered air seemed suddenly stale. Even Prowl who would have ordinarily reproached Ironhide for his crass phrasing didn't say anything. They all wanted to know.

Optimus Prime clutched his hands together tightly. "Was he a good fuck? Yes. Was he worth risking everything I have? No. It was a mistake that went too far, and still is."

Ratchet's chuckle was dry and strained. "You're…what's that thing Sparkplug says…only human? Wait that's not right. Only a mech." He then propped his chin up lazily with one red servo. "Well," he declared. "Getting a new Prime would only spell more trouble for me. Primus knows how long it'll take to pummel how _I_ like to work into his thick head. Guess we're stuck with you, Optimus."

It was Ratchet's rather roundabout way of saying that he'd continue to support his leader.

"Do the rest of you…feel the same way?" Optimus asked quietly.

"I see an advantageous tactical opportunity here," Prowl remarked as he arranged his fingers into steeple. "I reiterate that replacing you as our leader would only lead to chaos and anarchy in our ranks."

"Been with you too long, Prime," Ironhide announced gruffly, though it was obvious that he was still angry by the way he had averted his optics.

Red Alert made a small twitch as he felt all attention shift towards him. "Sir?"

"And your verdict, Red Alert," Optimus asked. "Am I guilty or innocent?"

"Sir, how do you plan to announce it to the rest of the crew?" the Security Director enquired, opting to avoid the question completely.

Optimus Prime fell silent for a moment. Though Red Alert didn't directly pledge his support, the fact that he insinuated the next stage of events indicated that he was willing to accept and adapt to the situation. For now it was enough.

"I will have to twist the truth," he sighed. "A white lie if you will."

Ratchet made a contemplative 'hmm' before speaking. "Yes you will. Tell them what you told us. That he was a double agent."

"They'll never fall for that," Ironhide scoffed.

"No, they probably won't," the medic agreed. "But officialising the cover up would turn their rumours and speculations exactly into what they are – rumours and speculations. I'll give out a statement that Soundwave will require a long rehabilitation session to help him 'reprogram' himself back to Autobot life, as he was in so deep that he had to turn 'Con regardless."

"It's the only way I can go about it," Prime added softly. "Soon he and I will be required to appear before the Council and Vector Sigma. There the final judgment will be passed…with the will of Primus I will be allowed to continue my service."

Ratchet swivelled lazily in his floating chair. "Well, you know. Sentinel did some pretty bad stuff too."

"Thanks, Ratchet," Prime muttered without looking up.

* * *

Unsurprisingly, the rest of the Ark's crew didn't take Optimus Prime's announcement well. There had been an onslaught of protests, questions of disbelief and an all-around uproar. But to the relief of the high command, a mutiny did not occur as Prowl had hinted in that matter-of-fact way of his that had Red Alert twitching all over again. At least Optimus could take pride that his crew were loyal to him, despite the upheaval he had placed upon their lives.

To a point.

"Pass," Sideswipe muttered and threw out the holo-cards he held out onto the table. "I'm out."

"Aw," Smokescreen pouted. "No second round?" He tilted his helm towards Bluestreak. "What about you? Wanna play?"

Bluestreak was slyly avoiding Sunstreaker's groping hand. The small-built mech shook his head before he swatted at Sunstreaker's shoulder and moved farther away from the bulky toughliner.

"I'm not very good at playing…no patience for it," Bluestreak supplied, now noticing how he was pushed up close against Sideswipe.

"This day has been slag," Sideswipe declared, smiling devilishly at Bluestreak before he leaned back in his seat and swung his legs up on the table.

The red-coloured twin's optics scanned over to the small mech next to him, and he watched as Sunstreaker murmured out an apology to Bluestreak. His brother had been attempting to get into the sniper's panel for a long time, but the Praxian had yet to yield.

"Pretty fucking much," Smokescreen replied. "Prime loves droppin' the bombs on us…such a great commander he is, getting his rocks off between the enemy's legs."

Bluestreak, who had been hauled onto Sunstreaker's lap, piped up. "We don't know that. It could be that Prime's telling the truth about it you know…and if he did lie, well the rest of the command are going along with it, and obviously the Council is too."

"I wanted to chuck him off of that balcony in the hangar. Talking down to us and sounding like he'd made up that excuse on the trip over…please," Smokescreen said lowly.

Bluestreak shrugged his shoulder. "I don't know…I guess we'll find out what happens soon enough."

Sideswipe rubbed at his chin, attempting to look like he was really pondering something.

"That bitch must have one _tight _valve. Or he's putting moves on Prime that the mech's never seen before. 'Cause I mean on the outside, he's about as attractive as the _Ark's _paintjob," the twin stated.

Sunstreaker hummed in agreement and reached in front of himself and Bluestreak for his cube of high-grade. "I would have thought his panel would be welded shut to avoid the temptation. Isn't he like that? All creepy with his monotone. That mech must have an awesome sex voice."

Here Sunstreaker mimicked some noises and the two other mechs laughed, but not Bluestreak.

The gunner's lips were curved into a frown. "How do you know? He might genuinely be a good and compassionate lover…Optimus did bond with him, didn't he? I mean for Prime to pass up Elita _and _Magnus, Soundwave must be something special."

The others gave Bluestreak a look. Sunstreaker craned his neck to the side so he could stare directly into his optics.

"Hey, you know something we don't?" the yellow-plated twin asked.

Bluestreak began to stammer. "W-Well no. I'm just trying to be reasonable and not jump into conclusions—"

"Want me to remind you how many times that 'Con tried to kill you on the battlefield?" Sunstreaker interrupted, not allowing the mech he held on his lap to launch into a long-winded babble.

"I can understand if it's what he had to do to keep his cover! We've tried to kill him too you know!"

Sunstreaker snorted. "Oh c'mon! _Cover? _Like hell I'll ever believe that!"

Bluestreak made an annoyed huff and with a jerky twitch of his doorwings, he wiggled off from Sunstreaker's lap. This time he opted to sit on the bench next to Smokescreen. Sideswipe gave the younger Praxian a small smile and held his hands out in a mollifying gesture.

"The guy's rumoured to have some pretty scary mind powers," he said. "For all you know, he's probably weaved himself into Prime's interfacing coding, Blue."

Bluestreak huffed angrily, and rolled the light in his optics like it was obvious. "Don't be so dense, Sideswipe. Soundwave's powerful, but I don't think he could manipulate the _entire _high command. Especially when there's not even a good way to get to the Council. And even if he did, someone would have to know… at least Blaster. Plus, Prime's got the Matrix."

The others didn't seem to buy it.

"Yeah, Blue, but that's not the point. The point is that it would be much easier to topple the Autobots over with Prime gone. Prowl would take command next and Jazz hates him, so you have a big problem there. Who would replace Prime?" Smokescreen pointed out with an idle drawl.

It was then that Sideswipe placed his hand onto his chestplates, puffing up his plating arrogantly. "I don't know about you guys, but I think I'm the perfect mech for the job. I shall replace Prime. I shall be…" He paused for effect. "Sideswipe Prime. The Awesome. Destroyer of Seekers and wooer of femmes alike."

"More like Sideslag Prime the glitch-head," Sunstreaker muttered under his breath.

"Hey! I'd make the _best_ Prime ever!"

Suddenly Prowl appeared, standing next to Sideswipe. "You'd make a great Prime, Sideswipe…in you being a prime example of insubordination. Or you being the prime cleaner of the lower deck's hallways for having such a smart mouth… am I wrong?" the small black and white doorwinged mech remarked.

Sideswipe instantly sulked as Prowl held a datapad out to Smokescreen, who took it and began reading it over.

"Prowl baby, I was joking!" Sideswipe whined. "You know that! I'd be a terrible Prime and everyone knows that too."

The red coloured twin received a sharp smack on his shoulder. "I am not your _baby_ Sideswipe, and I never will be. Now you really _do _get to clean the lower deck tonight," the tactician blandly informed him.

Prowl looked over to Smokescreen and tapped the datapad the mech was holding in his hands. "If you could get back to me with these later when you have the chance," he murmured, addressing Smokescreen.

"Sure," Smokescreen replied.

"Wait, Prowl, come on!" Sideswipe yelled, half standing to go after Prowl as the tactician started to walk away from the table.

Sunstreaker grabbed his brother's shoulder and pulled him back down to sit. "It's your fault, dunce. Deal with it. You ain't gonna get that."

The twins began to bicker at each other until Smokescreen decided he heard enough. With a sigh, he hoisted himself to his pedes. "Gonna have to cut this short, gents. Need to fill in some reports for Hoist that I've been putting off since… forever." He winked and waved a hand dismissively. "Later!"

He left them there, throwing one last amused glance at Bluestreak trying to evade Sunstreaker's affections and proceeded to walk out of the rec room and into the corridor. Smokescreen strolled towards the medical wing of the _Ark, _a cheerful bounce to his step. But as he reached the final junction, he turned towards to the right instead and ventured even deeper into the ends of the ship.

Smokesceen reached a set of large doors and tapped lightly on the control panel next to them, before speaking into it. "Smokescreen reporting, sir."

The doors opened for him, allowing him entrance into the office inside.

"Sir, you've requested to see me?" the Praxian asked the moment he stopped in front of Prime's large desk.

Optimus had his hands folded, closely watching Smokescreen for a moment. Then, he stood up and went to his energon dispenser. "Yes I did. Please, sit down."

Smokescreen sat on one of the guest chairs, sitting back against the plush surface so he could lounge in it comfortably. Clearly this wasn't the first time he met with Prime under these circumstances.

Prime filled two cubes with high-grade and offered one to Smokescreen as he returned to his desk. He sat down opposite of the mech and sighed heavily. "What have the others been saying about my announcement?" Prime asked before he pried his face mask off and set it to the side so he could take a drink of the rich purple energon. "Obviously not a lot of good… it was quite unexpected."

"You want the brief, to-the-point version?" Smokescreen asked and took a long sip from his own cube. "Or do you want the uncensored, director's cut version?"

Optimus laughed and his blue optics seemed to twinkle. "You know that we have all night to discuss matters such as these… which ever version you feel would satisfy my curiosity the most, Smokescreen," Prime replied as he idly tapped a stylus to his desk.

A loud exhalation of air was heard from Smokescreen's vents. He fell silent – only for a moment – and studied one of the electrum swords that decorated the wall. "Reactions…range from disbelieving, angry, a little betrayed…but mostly shock. I haven't caught any word on overthrowing you but I believe it's because you have the rest of the high command backing you up. The crew pretty much take that as a solid validation point. Time will tell though. Now as for what they're saying about Soundwave…well, heh…"

He trailed off there with a snort.

Optimus stared hard at his cube before looking up to Smokescreen again. "All of the reactions are understandable…it hasn't been any easier for me elsewhere. I would feel betrayed too, however, soon Soundwave will go through the ceremony process to become the Royal Consort. Until then… they can speak ill of him if they wish—"

Smokescreen's sharp optics settled back on the larger mech. "And you're okay with that? Knowing what they say about _your _Consort?"

"No, I'm not. But until he becomes the official Consort, there is little I can do about it. After the ceremony, they must show him unambiguous respect… he will outrank everyone here except for me." Optimus glanced over to meet Smokescreen's optics directly. "What do _you _think?"

Smokescreen's mouth twisted a little – perhaps on its way to form a derisive sneer but quickly softened into a neutral expression instead. "Frankly? I don't believe a word you said about him a double-agent for us. Neither do the others of course. Except for Bluestreak, bless 'im. I'm inclined to echo the rest of the crew here…did he bewitch you with his mind powers? Or is he that good in the berth."

Prime let a small smirk curve his lips upward. "Since you have been honest with me, which I appreciate… I suppose I can reciprocate. Soundwave is… the best I've ever had. Perhaps he _has_ bewitched me with his mouth and valve..."

If Smokescreen was surprised at the frank confession, he didn't show it.

"Decepticons will do that to you," the doorwinged mech carefully replied, wondering if Prime would take the bait.

"Double-agent," the Autobot leader smoothly corrected.

"Right," Smokescreen said, and it didn't sound as though he believed it.

Optimus smiled again, and he tapped his fingers on the tabletop. "I appreciate you, Smokescreen. I hope you haven't lost faith in me. I know Soundwave feels the same."

The Praxian seemed to deflate. "Well, I know you're not telling the entire truth…but with the high command backing you, along with the Council, there isn't much I can do, can I?"

"Of course you can do something. You could refuse to serve," Optimus replied.

"And what would you do if I _did_ refuse to continue my current assignments?" Smokescreen countered, leaning forward in his chair to grab a pretty stylus off of his leader's desk. He twirled it around in his elegant fingers before subspacing it with a smile.

Prime allowed it, knowing that it was Smokescreen's way of testing his boundaries. Sometimes the relationships that he held with his subordinates seemed more like a game of politics, diplomacy and heavily layered actions. Faith and loyalty only went so far.

"You would be executed for treason. Just as with anyone else who decides to rebel against me. Or you could renounce your position in the Autobots completely and join the Neutrals…I will not be able to guarantee your safety there. Soon, Soundwave and I will be the Autobot law," Optimus said slowly, his hands clasped together.

"The ruler and the enforcer?" Smokescreen asked. "From _The Will of Primus, the Directives of Prime_…passage 304…am I correct?"

"Passage 305," Optimus corrected. "I am to be the ruler…and Soundwave will be the enforcer."

"Heh…I do hope he's up for the job," Smokescreen remarked.

He placed the stylus back onto the desk where he had found it.

* * *

Also, if any of you readers happen to be going to AA (Auto Assembly in Birmingham) this August, drop me a review or PM! We'll be there! :D


	11. Chapter 11

First off... yeah this took forEVER. I went to Europe this summer...then moved into a dorm. Then more college. Then more school work. Then subsequently failing more schoolwork.

Sigh. Anyways this chapter is looooooooaded with goods. You should probably read it twice because you won't catch everything. Primarily we shift to a Decepticon focus... too many Autobots lately! Thank you all so much for the reviews! They really are what drives us. :)

* * *

Chapter Eleven

* * *

"I hate it how you never warn me," Astrotrain grouched.

Blitzwing gave a smug, slag-eating grin and leaned back against his berth, still basking in the afterglow of his overload. Astrotrain glared at him and wiped a glob of thick transfluid off his face with the edge of one sharp-tipped finger.

"Why would I do that when you look so much better withit _on_ your face," Blitzwing smirked as he gave his fellow Triplechanger an appraising look.

Despite appearing largely inconvenienced, Astrotrain licked the rest of it off his fingers and flopped back on the berth next to Blitzwing.

"Glad you had fun. Was that a good enough ending to your stressful day, honeybunch?" Astrotrain mocked.

"Ah shut up, Astro," Blitzwing said and playfully yanked on the other mech's broad wing. "Ever since Soundwave slagged off, everything's just gone to the Pit. Megatron's more psycho than usual, his bitch Screamer is a bigger nag than anything I've ever seen in my life. At least those pitspawn Cassette twins provided some measure of amusement here."

Astrotrain stretched his arms lazily over his helm and yawned, vents swivelling wide to allow more air into his systems. "Ya know, I never realised just how much of a buffer Soundwave acted between Megsy and us. He really calmed the guy down with his—"

"Valve?" Blitzwing offered.

"—competence," Astrotrain finished, rolling the light in his red optics. "Honestly, Blitz, it's all about your spike isn't it?"

Blitzwing waved his hand dismissively in the air and snorted. "Yeah sorry, got him confused with Screamer."

Across the room, the door swished open, and Octane stepped through.

The large mech waved in greeting, but he halted and turned when the door grinded terribly, refusing to shut.

Blitzwing groaned. "How many times do I gotta tell you to quit stepping on the fucking track? It's popped up out of the floor and if you step on it, you'll bend it."

Octane grabbed the outside and inside of the door with his big hands, and with a fierce tug, yanked it shut. The door motor made a pathetic sound and Octane drew his hands back.

"Fixed," he replied, drawing a big gust of air into his intakes before giving Blitzwing's still exposed interface array a suspicious look. "Fucking without me? I thought I mattered more to you," he complained as he sat down at the rickety table the other Triplechangers kept in their room.

"Not when you hoard all our energon, you greedy lout," Astrotrain retorted. "Been bartering again with Swindle, you slut?"

Octane pulled out a deck of holo-cards and set them on the table. "No one around here appreciates my skills," he grouched. "And when I do come around – _with highgrade_ – I get called a greedy lout and a slut. Would _you _be inclined to share if you were called a greedy lout and slut, hm?"

Blitzwing grabbed an empty cube from the floor and threw it towards Octane's general direction. "You only share when we bribe you."

"Bribe me with what? I never said I was gonna _share _my highgrade. I only said that I had some and that right now I'm not inclined to give any away. I might though, if you come up with something good in return." Octane set the cards out for the other two mechs and waited patiently. "Or I guess I could make you beg for it. That would be much more pleasing to me, yes it would. Because I mean, if there's no respect between us Triplechangers, what _do _we have?"

Blitzwing rolled his helm to the side, focusing his visor to Astrotrain's equally-as-unimpressed optics.

"He sounds like he's reciting one of our grand leader's speeches," Blitzwing remarked.

"Nah," Astrotrain said. "Megatron wouldn't use the word 'respect'."

"Heh, yeah you're right. Okay maybe Swindle's then."

Octane pulled a rust stick out of his subspace and started chewing on it as he listened to the other mechs in the room. At that, Blitzwing's visor flared with renewed interest. He sat up and scowled.

"Where the _fuck _did you get those?" he demanded, pointing at the rust stick Octane was holding.

The tanker smiled mysteriously and waved it around before popping the rest in his mouth. "Gee, I really can't remember. But I'm sure a blowjob would improve your chances of jogging my memory though."

With a smirk, Astrotrain jabbed firmly at Blitzwing's side. "It's your turn to please his Eminence. Go on, take one for the team."

"You do it," Blitzwing petulantly said. "M'too lazy to get up. Too comfortable."

"Glitch. I still got your stupid cum drying on my face."

Then, Astrotrain lifted one massive leg and promptly shoved Blitzwing off the berth. Blitzwing grunted and laid sprawled out on the floor for a few moments before he crawled the short distance to where Octane was sitting. He roughly pulled the tanker's legs apart and glared at him.

"I hate you," Blitzwing flatly declared.

"I hate you too, my dear Blitzwing. But unfortunately if you want to get some energon, you're going to have to entice me. This stuff isn't free you know. I'm supposed to distribute it evenly amongst the crew," Octane loftily replied.

Astrotrain finally got up and wandered over to the table himself so he could take a seat. He began sifting through the holo-deck to make sure Octane wasn't going to cheat, pointedly ignoring the pair. "You mean you give more to those who do you the most favours in the berth," he sniped.

"Indeed." Octane sighed dramatically. "It's sad what my bartering skills have amounted to. Used to be able to get some good stuff on Cybertron. Now I'm lucky if I can get a mech whose valve isn't loose and used-up."

Blitzwing tilted his helm towards Astrotrain and made a loud sizzle-like sound when he drew air in sharply. "Oh, _burn _Astroboy."

"There's a reason why he's using your mouth," Astrotrain snapped waspishly back.

"Like you're any—"

Octane reached down and patted Blitzwing's head. "Now, now. Don't talk with your mouth full of cock. Didn't your carrier tell you that's rude?"

Astrotrain, who looked terribly bored with everything, began distributing the cards between himself and Octane. Overhead, a small chime sounded, and the tiny vid-screen the Triplechangers had across on the wall fizzled with static. Octane looked suddenly interested at this new development, but he shoved Blitzwing's head back between his legs when the mech tried to look up to see what was happening.

"Oh it's Shockwave," Octane finally said. "You wanna secure the line, Astro? I'm terrible at it."

"You're useless," Astrotrain muttered as he went through the necessary motions to encrypt the call.

A mere moment later and Shockwave's distinct faceplate appeared on the tiny monitor; the picture marred by white lines and general fuzziness from the bad connection.

"Hello, Shockwave," Astrotrain called out, barely glancing up while he finished laying out the holo-cards in sequence. "Ya figured out a replacement yet? Or is Megatron being difficult?"

Shockwave's singular yellow optic flickered as he stared at the three Triplechangers before him. He hardly seemed surprised by the scene, and did not comment on it.

"Megatron has been … troublesome lately. Soundwave's replacement has been located.. I suspect I will be coming to Earth soon to help with the workload myself," came the cool, intelligent nuances of Shockwave's voice. "It will take time. What is the status of the base?"

"Damage to several sectors, everyone's running around trying to block up all security blanks, making sure this place is tight as a drum again. Megatron's… obviously not happy," Octane responded with a shrug.

Shockwave made an irritated click in his vocaliser. "I don't care about Megatron. I wish to know what the reactions are from the rest of the soldiers on this matter."

"Testy. Tense," Octane answered and he opened his mouth, as if he was going to continue his sentence but then fell suddenly silent, his optics flickering with pleasure at the attention Blitzwing was giving his cock.

"It's kinda funny how Megatron's credibility amongst the troops here dropped since that thing with Soundwave. They're starting to wonder why we're still here and not over there on Cybertron. Guess they're all thinking that Soundwave's all Autobot now and yeah, we can all agree that he wasn't all that popular but he ain't an enemy anyone would want to have," Astrotrain finished off, his chair giving a creak as he shifted his heavy weight on it.

"It is to be expected," Shockwave sighed. "Even I did not foresee this. It is not my judgment of Soundwave that failed, it is my belief that Megatron would have kept him satisfied. But apparently that is not the case. Soundwave is not lost yet."

Octane was quiet after the mech spoke. Instead he concentrated at jabbing his hips up and sliding his spike down Blitzwing's throat. His engine rumbled and he smirked.

Astrotrain picked a card up and turned it over a few times. "Many are calling for your return as supreme commander. You have never led us astray," the large mech said carefully.

"Impossible," Shockwave simply responded.

"Go fish," Octane piped up, kicking Astrotrain.

Astrotrain cocked his head to the side and stared. "Go _what_?"

"It was a joke!" Octane snapped.

"You're a strange mech."

Blitzwing managed to pull away from the large spike Octane was practically feeding him and made a cough that suspiciously sounded like, "Freak."

"Shut up and keep sucking," Octane growled, tugging hard on Blitzwing's helm.

"The problem is," Astrotrain said. "Is that there's no way we can see what's going on with the Autobots…not with Soundwave and his twerps gone. I mean Laserbeak is okay for that sort of stuff, but with all the known openings at their base plugged up…well you get what I'm saying."

He turned over another holo-card and smirked wryly at the picture it presented him – an entertainment drone that used to be popular in many energon bars.

"Soundwave is, and will always be, _my _pupil," Shockwave replied uninterestedly.

It could be heard through the monitor that the one-optic'ed mech was tapping his fingers against a table of some kind. Then an obnoxiously loud _slurp_ as Blitzwing pulled away from Octane's cock, leaving a few drops of oral fluid and pre-cum to splatter on the floor between his spread knees. Octane sneered and lightly smacked Blitzwing's cheek, prompting him to continue. Blitzwing's response was to curl his top lip over a fang and nip warningly at the mech's heavily-ridged spike. Octane purred instead.

"We must not let up," Shockwave insisted, completely ignoring the sordid scene. "We must not lose any energon to the Autobots. In the meantime, you three should attempt to stay out of trouble with the high command. I want daily reports from _each _of you—" There were collective sighs of annoyance. "—and I want you to pay careful attention to Starscream. If there are any serious signs that he might attempt to take command, I need to know immediately."

Octane groaned. This time it wasn't at the prospect of extra reports and work. He overloaded and jerked in his chair for a moment as Blitzwing bit down hard on the shaft of his spike, prolonging the pleasure. When it was over, he slumped down in a satisfied way and rewarded Blitzwing with a few rust sticks.

"Of course sir," Octane finally muttered, and Blitzwing raised his hand in acknowledgment as well.

There a few scrapes of the chair on the floor and an aggressive whine from Astrotrain's turbine engine as he pushed forward and snatched a ruststick from Blitzwing's hand. He stuck it in his mouth before Blitzwing could take it back.

"We'll keep an optic out for you," Astrotrain acquiesced readily with a lethargic salute. "One thing though we all keep wonderin' about this whole situation…you aware if there was anything in the past between Sounders and Prime? 'Cause just thinking about it frags my cpu up."

Shockwave was silent. He turned his helm and his hand with fingers on it typed something – the Triplechangers could hear it – and after a moment he finally turned back. "Optimus Prime was already selected to be Sentinel Prime's successor when I found Soundwave. He was a mere youngling then. Malnourished and abused. He would have had no time to cultivate a relationship with Optimus Prime on Cybertron. He was content with Megatron. Soundwave has developed this new relationship solely on Earth."

Except Blitzwing smirked shrewdly, muttering underneath his breath, "Looks like you trained him in other things too." Louder, he said, "Good clip that. The one Laserbeak brought. Real…heh, optic opener."

"I do not find your antics amusing, Blitzwing. This is only a mild set back. Soundwave will be destroyed if he so wishes. If not, I will take him to Cybertron and guard him myself," Shockwave rattled off, his small head pivoting in its socket as he looked around. Probably at the various displays in front of him.

Blitzwing shrugged. Soundwave's fate was Shockwave's business, not his own. But he understood how unwise it would be to leave a dangerous mech like Soundwave to his own devices.

"Alright, boss. We'll keep our optics peeled for any news of revolt," Astrotrain mumbled.

As Octane finally deemed it fit to fill four cubes full of highgrade, Shockwave's yellow optic flickered when the tanker covertly looked back up to the screen as the other two Decepticons squabbled over the energon.

Swindle had his place, after all.

Shockwave then cut the communications and the screen went blank as the two half-starved Decepticons drank their cubes as fast as they could.

* * *

The door to Soundwave's room swished open. Prime stood there with his highly polished plating gleaming under the low lights. His mask was off, which was odd, and his lips were set in a grim line. He beckoned to Soundwave with a swift gesture of his hand.

"Come. We have things to discuss with the other Autobots. Prowl has some documents for you to fill out, and Jazz has questions for you. Then you are required to undergo a medical examination."

It was a sly way of informing Soundwave that he was about to be interrogated. Autobot policy dictated that no prisoners could be harmed while undergoing questioning, which was rarely enforced. But because of Prowl, who went by the book, it would be typical.

Then Prime waved a hand and pointed at Soundwave's chest. "No symbiotes. They will stay here in the room until you return."

Soundwave had no choice but to obey. Without a word, his tapedeck chestplate clicked open and he released the four symbiotes he had slotted in.

"Boss?" Frenzy questioned, visor turning from Soundwave to Prime. "Where ya going?"

"Stay," Soundwave instructed.

Ravage and Buzzsaw made their own respective sounds, and even Rumble took a step forward as if to follow. Soundwave held his servo up, barring them from continuing any further and turned his helm to stare expectantly at Prime.

"Please come with me," Prime said, motioning out with his hand.

Soundwave stepped forward towards the door and just as he reached the threshold, Prime firmly pushed him out into the hallway. He then placed his hand on the small of Soundwave's back and hovered behind him. Soundwave's energy field made a subtle ripple at the touch, his helm turning slightly to the side where he could see the bulk of the Autobot's arm from his peripheral vision.

"I will not disobey nor will I escape," Soundwave murmured lowly, with the implication that there was no need for Prime to keep his hand there in such an obvious show of dominance.

Prime smiled. He leaned forward and wrapped his hands possessively around Soundwave's chassis and waist, holding him tight. Soundwave stiffened and his spark gave an unwanted lurch of excitement.

"Of course, my bondmate," Prime whispered against his helm. "I know you'll only obey as long as it suits your needs."

Then Optimus released him and gave him a small push forward, pressing his energy field into Soundwave's back like a physical force.

The journey was short. They went down a few floors from the elevator on the command hallway and walked a few paces before exiting the hallway into a room. Then Prime ushered his bondmate into a smaller room, where both Jazz and Prowl were animatedly arguing. They silenced themselves when Prime appeared. The large mech nodded and then walked out, the door swishing shut.

In the background, Blaster was standing in the corner chewing on a rust stick. His optics glinted like hard jewels at Soundwave and immediately his own defensive telepathy spread around the room.

"Soundwave. Please, sit down," Prowl said lightly, almost cheerfully.

Prowl pulled out a comfortable-looking chair for the Decepticon and waited expectantly. On the other hand, Jazz said nothing. The saboteur's stance was aggressive and his arms were crossed, indicating with his body language just how much he was annoyed.

After a long moment, Jazz stepped forward and motioned to the chair as well, as if he were a clone of Prowl. "We just have some documents for you, along with a few questions to ask you. Do you agree to indulge us?"

For Soundwave the question was redundant; it wasn't as if he had the choice to refuse. The datapads waiting in front of him were standard fare when dealing with prisoners of war and defectors. Soundwave tugged out the wire that was incorporated into the datapad and slotted it into his wrist port, signing in his agreement of going with whatever the Autobots would require of him with his own personal digital signature. He then looked over the form and filled in his official known details plus the sort of information he was willing to pass on.

Prowl glanced over at the datapad and his mouth pulled a little with the beginnings of a frown. "You've left many questions unanswered."

"Questions: date of creation, place of origin, familial relations and other such details irrelevant for this session," Soundwave replied while he disconnected himself from the datapad.

When Prowl took it back, he looked completely disappointed that he hadn't gotten all the information he wanted. The tactician tapped the datapad against his chassis and stared coolly at the mech.

"Is that so?" Prowl mused. "Well that is your right. I shall omit those personal questions."

Prowl turned around. His doorwings were fanned out and relaxed, twitching so often as if catching a lazy breeze. There was an energon dispenser in the corner and he made two cubes, one for himself and another for Soundwave.

"I apologize that we haven't gotten the energon unit in your room fully functional quite yet. Here," he said, putting Soundwave's cube on the table in front of him.

Jazz pursed his lips in displeasure. He held his own datapad and his vocalizer buzzed.

"When was the official time of your defection?" the saboteur asked curtly.

"Standardised local Gregorian calendar: September, 23rd. Time: 0800 GMT," the telepath answered promptly, keeping his mask present and completely ignoring the cube that was placed before him.

"And the reason for your defection?"

Soundwave glanced at Jazz. Unlike Jazz, Soundwave's visor did not sit on his face properly – it had been a temporary replacement given to him by Ratchet.

"Reason: self-preservation. Megatron has listed me and my four remaining symbiotes as traitors. We were slated for termination."

Jazz leaned a little forward, his stare intensifying. "And the reason for _that_?"

"I am bonded to Optimus Prime, leader of the Autobots and current Matrix-bearer. I have been his agent," Soundwave said indifferently. It was difficult to tell with the monotone he employed.

"Is that right? Or could it be that you were having too much fun fucking him?" Jazz replied and though his tone was still even and soft, one could sense the chill he was emitting. "Why are you attracted to Optimus Prime? Why did you initiate a relationship with him?"

Prowl hissed darkly and waved his hand. "Disregard my friend. He is crass, and we're all a bit troubled by what has happened. I suppose you can imagine this was quite a surprise. The troops are restless, the command is a bit irked and confused. We wonder why … Prime has taken this sudden, abrupt liking to you."

A thick, tense silence surrounded them after Prowl recycled Jazz's words into a more palatable approach. Soundwave's mouth tightened behind his mask and he wanted to say that he had been overtaken by his sheer lust for Prime and the dark dominance he exerted. That yes, he enjoyed the way Prime's big spike filled him up and how Prime fucked him like a wild beast. They were all thinking it after all. Soundwave could feel the edges of their thoughts brushing against his telepathy, their hungry zeal to hear him admit it.

Eager, vicarious fools.

The Decepticon sat primly in his seat with his palms flat on the table surface and his chair pushed back, away from the table edge to keep his lap visible. "We were compatible," he said simply, not wishing to elaborate. "Matrix approved."

"I find that very peculiar and not very believable," Prowl commented. "But it is not my matter to speak on, unfortunately. What are your intentions now that you are in the Autobot headquarters? Have you accepted any roles given to you by Optimus Prime?"

Across the room, Blaster snickered. And outside it, Optimus Prime watched the proceedings on the other side of the see-through wall – though he wasn't able to hear what was being said; for privacy reasons.

"Besides being Prime's personal cum disposal unit? Not much I suppose," Blaster said.

Prowl smiled and a soft chuckle left his vocalizer. Soundwave didn't react at the offensive jibe directed towards him.

"That is inappropriate, please cease," the tactician said airily.

"Oh come on," Jazz growled, reaching forward to tug on one of Prowl's doorwings. His sharp blue visor shifted to focus back onto Soundwave. "You're not fooling anyone with this game you've got going. A high commander in the Decepticons, one who was generally respected and left alone by Megatron. Why would you waste all of that? I find it hard to believe that you were that… _infatuated_ with Prime's cock. I've seen it. It's nice, but it's not worth that price."

"Unless Decepticons are particularly lacking?" Prowl chimed in.

"I did not indulge in such activities with my subordinates," Soundwave responded, his fingers spreading wide on the table with a light scrape of claws. "_Jazz_: better suited to answer your enquiry."

Jazz's optics lit brightly at the implication and his mouth snapped shut when Prowl threw a hard glare at him.

"Right," Jazz replied after several long moments. He stepped closer so that he was only a short distance from Soundwave. "But you still haven't answered our questions. You agreed to be cooperative. Are you refusing to give any information? Because up until now, you haven't."

"Yes, please do answer. Our main problem is that we think you're influencing Optimus Prime with your telepathy. Is this true?" the tactician asked, still staring at his fellow officer.

Despite the neutral yellow colour of his visor, Soundwave's stare was just as potent.

"Negative. Optimus Prime's Matrix nullifies any effects my telepathy exerts upon him. He cannot be influenced to such a large degree. In addition: he has placed an external device upon me that blocks my ability and is controlled remotely by him. Question: ineffective," Soundwave intoned. "Current interrogation method: unsatisfactory. Please dignify me with one better suited for my status and threat level."

Jazz curled his lips back to show his sharp denta. "We weren't talking about that. We mean _before _you ever bonded. There was nothing to stop you from influencing him then."

"I repeat: Matrix nullifies all effects regardless of a bond present. Interfacing acts: consensual." Soundwave said, as he slid his palms over the table with slow, deliberate movements. "I did not need coercion to arouse Optimus Prime. I did not scheme this bond." The sharp talons dug into the table, adding more scratches into the surface. "Current timing: not favourable for _any _scheme."

Prowl was quiet for several long moments and so was Jazz. They both stood up straight and looked at each other – obviously conversing with their internal communication systems.

"I see," Prowl said after a few tense moments. "You are unwilling to divulge any information. I will give my report to Optimus. He can decide what to do with you," Prowl concluded curtly as he started to pick up all the datapads that were scattered over the table.

Then Prowl and Jazz turned around to leave. But before Prowl could palm the door open, Soundwave spoke.

"I am answering all your questions to the best of my ability. I have transferred Decepticon classified information to you," he said, his visor glowing brightly – whether from desperation or annoyance it was hard to tell. "What is it that you _really _want to know."

Prowl paused and stopped as Jazz continued on to the exit. The tactician turned and scowled at the Decepticon.

"We are all wondering how you managed to get Optimus Prime. Why he decided to choose you, of all mechs. You're not Prime material. So this raises suspicions. We wanted to know why he picked a Decepticon...one as obscure as yourself."

"I gave him excitement where you did not," Soundwave replied snidely. "He found his satisfaction in my body where he did not with you."

Prowl licked his lips. "Yes. I wonder why. You're hideous. But I suppose he never has had the best judgment when it came to relationships."

Prowl then executed a smart turn and exited the room with Jazz, leaving Blaster as the sole occupant with Soundwave. The defensive telepath sneered at the Decepticon across the room and his power fluctuated, brushing his impossibly thick mind shield against the mostly offensive one of Soundwave's. Blaster expanded the shield until he encompassed the entire room, effectively containing and numbing Soundwave's power.

"You're not the only one with special abilities. There are even mechs stronger than me in the Autobots," Blaster murmured.

Soundwave's sensornet was positively crawling on his frame and though he made no sudden movement to indicate that he was affected by Blaster or the others, it was obvious by the stiffening of his shoulders and the subtle flare of his visor. Beneath his mask, his mouth was twisting with resentment. So he just sat there, not speaking or retaliating in any way because he knew that he was being watched. He held his will and telepathy in, urging himself to remain calm when all he wanted to do was leap over the table and tear Blaster's spark out. He had to bide his time.

"Interrogation: complete?" Soundwave finally asked, vents exhaling loudly.

Blaster smirked. "Yes." Then the mech turned around to leave the room, but not without tossing one last remark over his shoulder. "I'll take you on any time."

Out in the main room, Optimus was sitting with Ratchet. Prowl and Jazz were nowhere to be seen. The medic scowled when Blaster finally exited.

"Interrogation... honestly. If there's anyone who needs to be interrogated here it's _you_," Ratchet said, pointing an accusing servo at the large mech who was sitting next to him.

Optimus raised a hand and shook his head. "Silence. You have no authority to speak out of turn."

Ratchet made a rude gesture back to the Autobot leader and pushed Blaster out of the way so he could enter the interrogation room where Soundwave was still sitting primly. Ratchet made an exasperated noise and motioned for him with a rough jerk from his servos.

"Okay, come with me. I have to do an obligatory check-up of your systems. Then you can muddle around with me in the medbay for a while. I could use an extra hand organizing things."

The Decepticon stood up, his much taller frame dwarfing the medic. Ratchet beckoned him over and they left the interrogation room. Blaster gave Soundwave a dirty look and gave another pulse of his power as they passed, but Ratchet just put his hand against the back of Soundwave's arm, ushering him forward.

Blaster followed them, falling one step behind. When they reached the main corridor, Soundwave kept his helm straight while the Autobots stared and frowned. One of them – the Autobots' prized sniper – gave him a particularly intense stare. Soundwave's visor turned slightly towards his direction, the colour brightening a little with passing interest. Bluestreak's big blue optics flickered and quickly looked away.

"You know where the examination berth is," Ratchet briskly said, waving vaguely towards its direction the moment they entered the medbay.

With Blaster's suffocating presence pressing behind him, Soundwave just continued forward towards the long line of clean berths. After the brief medical examination where the most inconvenient part was to hear the medic bitch, Soundwave was told quite firmly to stay put. Then Ratchet must have taken pity of him and Soundwave was greeted with the sight of his symbiotes being brought out for their own quick examination.

"Ports," Ratchet told Buzzsaw after he had set him onto the berth.

Buzzsaw cocked his head to the side and did nothing, his optics darkening.

Ratchet sighed with exasperation and glared at Soundwave.

"Buzzsaw," the telepath said.

This time the symbiote obeyed, with the plating underneath his wings sliding back. Circuits were revealed, glimpses of protoform and a row of shiny receptor ports that glinted underneath the medbay's bright lighting.

"Hn…an interfacing port I see," Ratchet noted, his keen optics studying one of the larger than usual ports on the symbiote before he clipped in a diagnostics unit into the first two. "You kinky slagger," he addressed Soundwave with an amused snort. "Not a lot of mechs can get off that way with just plugging in."

"Symbiotes' wellbeing: significant," Soundwave explained. "I cater and adapt."

Ratchet just shook his helm to himself.

After a diagnostic test that came clean, as expected, Ratchet freed the rest of the symbiotes so they could wander around. Ratchet then gave Soundwave a tray of tools to organise. After the mech had finished that, the CMO disappeared off into his office to finish off a few entries on an after-inspection report of the group. Blaster then motioned briskly to Soundwave and his symbiotes, taking them back to their room in short order.

"Wow, that was fun," Rumble grouched before hopping onto his berth. He sat cross-legged on it and leaned forward with his elbows on his bent knees. "I hope that fuckin' Blaster trips and falls into a smelter pit."

Though Soundwave did not comment himself, they all knew that he held a much more extreme death wish for Blaster. He sat heavily onto the opposite berth, tired from having to hold himself back from lashing out from all the negativity he'd been bombarded with. Frenzy watched his master clench and unclench his long, sharp-tipped fingers in an attempt to relax.

"Rumble," Soundwave finally called out after a long stretch of silence.

Without further prompting, Rumble twisted his arm behind his back at his winglets, reaching for the empty compartment that used to hold his weaponry. He procured a small capacitor and power booster that he had pilfered from one of the counters when Blaster and Ratchet weren't looking.

"These enough?" the little thief smirked as he deposited them onto Soundwave's waiting palm.

Soundwave critically examined the items. They were scratched, their connectors blackened from overuse with an oily residue. But they would do. Frenzy meandered around the telepath's legs and kneeled onto the floor. He carefully felt around the orange wall until his sharp little claws located the panel seam, where it had been manually loosened. Frenzy carefully pulled and jiggled at the panel, easing out the bolts he had taken out previously.

"Good thing with ships…" the symbiote grunted as he pushed the panel that was roughly his size to the side, "…is that everything is mashed up together to save space."

There was a pipe within the wall that shielded power and communication cables. Frenzy and Soundwave hijacked one of the secondary communications cables; rerouting it through filters by plugging it into Soundwave and amplifying the signal with the components Rumble had stolen.

Of course Soundwave wasn't keen on actually _contacting _anyone. But his primary job had always been to monitor the airwaves around him and to simply _listen_. He wanted to gain as much knowledge of the outside world as he could, spy on communication reports and hopefully during the process of observing, he'd learn just what the Pit was going on that the Autobots weren't telling him.

"Deplorable," Soundwave muttered, vent flaps swivelling with distaste at the lax encryption system the Autobots had for their inner network structure. "Teletraan-1: hopelessly outdated."

The last destination of his search was connecting to the _Ark's_ satellite receiver, disguising himself as one of the perpetual programs that ran constantly receiving off world transmissions. In doing that, he was able to locate an old 'message' box he kept on one of the humans' decommissioned satellites that continued to orbit the planet. He was not expecting to see an extra string of binary written in the satellite's archaic coding.

It said: _Contact me. _

Only Shockwave would have sent that.

Frenzy frowned and his visor darkened with disapproval. "No."

The other symbiotes stared at both Soundwave and Frenzy.

"No, what?" Rumble questioned curiously.

"Just _no_." On their short-range private comm, Frenzy added, _'Because it's a fuckin' trap, that's what. Why else would he send that?_'

_'Reason: unknown. Possibly advantageous to us,'_ Soundwave supplied.

None of his symbiotes looked happy about it, but Soundwave went through with it anyway. He didn't know what he was expecting to see, or whether his transmission was even going to go through. Cybertron was so far away and rigging enough power through the Autobots' communication system without them finding out had been a feat upon itself. He was mildly surprised when the encrypted signal ended up connecting and Shockwave shimmered into view onto a window he had opened within his internal HUD. Soundwave knew the other Decepticon well enough to know that Shockwave was not particularly excited to see him, featureless faceplates or not.

"And so the prodigal student returns," Shockwave sighed in greeting.

"Master Shockwave—" Soundwave tentatively began.

"I am no longer your master, Autobot traitor." The sneer in Shockwave's voice was evident. "You have long renounced that privilege."

Something inside Soundwave clenched with regret. He supposed he did deserve Shockwave's contempt. The mech had spent so much time and effort shaping him into who he was now. It was only fair, after all.

"Assumption wrong. I am not an Autobot and nor do I willingly support their cause."

"That is a pitiful excuse, telepath. Megatron has not seen it as such."

"It was not our willing decision. Matrix: forced us to bond permanently."

The last admission caught Shockwave's attention, causing his lone optic to brighten with interest. He dipped his helm a little forward and after a long moment, finally said, "Regardless. There had to have been a significant incentive for it to bond _you _to the _Prime_."

"Yes," Soundwave admitted. "An affair."

"The Matrix would have not bonded you to its host for something as trivial as an affair," Shockwave retorted.

Evidently, Shockwave was aware of the Matrix's parasitic nature. Of course he would; the scientist had the entirety of Cybertron's knowledge at his disposal. Soundwave tapped one finger on his thigh, the sound of it ringing through the metal before answering.

"Incentive: Optimus Prime wished to end the affair. I lost sight of myself and tried to offline him. I attacked it directly. Matrix: reacted. Chose me as the perfect bondmate."

Shockwave sat back in his seat and the vidscreen flickered a couple of times. Soundwave could see the various laboratory machines and several drones working in the background on what was likely to be an overly complicated experiment that would only make sense to Shockwave alone.

"He _is _the kind you would become enamoured with," Shockwave remarked. "Mechs with a certain type of presence were always your—"

The connection wavered and cut out for a brief second. Soundwave rerouted the call again to avoid the Teletran-1's warning system from discovering him and opted out of the video feed this time. Shockwave's cultured voice sounded tiny and marred by static, as if he was talking from a far distance.

"What is your status with the Autobots?"

"Currently pending," Soundwave replied honestly.

"You love him." It wasn't a question. It was an accusation.

This time Soundwave lied. "Negative."

In truth, he had no idea just _what _he felt for Optimus Prime. All he knew was that it was powerful, obsessive and like acid, would slowly eat him from the inside and destroy him.

There was another brief moment of silence, save from the beeps of machinery filtering from Shockwave's side of the connection. Then he spoke, "Has the Council been informed?"

The telepath reached up and rubbed a weary palm across the helm crest, wondering how to sell his predicament and solicit assistance from his old Master. He knew there was no point being verbally coy with Shockwave. The direct approach had always worked best with him.

"Yes. Alpha Trion has instructed Optimus Prime to inform the Autobots that I have been his agent. We await their final judgement."

"I hardly think they can afford to replace your Prime," Shockwave drawled, dry and derisive. "Spare me from an invitation to your bonding ceremony…or when he finally forces you to give him an heir."

Annoyance filled him, along with an icy trickle of unease down his spinal struts. "Patronisation: not appreciated."

Shockwave sounded as nonchalant as ever. "Your frame type is ensured for maximum fertility. Depending on some factors, you can conceive quite easily without a bond. You _know_ this already."

But Soundwave pressed on. "Method of communication: risky. Frequency: outdated and obsolete. Are you willing to assist me?"

"And pray tell, telepath, why should I assist you?"

Soundwave placed both hands upon the wall he was facing and leaned forward, resting his helm against it to calm himself down. The connection between them crackled.

"Your assistance: mutually beneficiary for both," he began, vowing to himself not to resort to begging. "The Council is the virus that plagues our planet and the forefront of my problems."

"I see. And what of Prime?"

Yes, what of Prime? Soundwave pursed his lips behind his mask wondering whether to sidestep Shockwave's perfectly valid question. But the other mech was not naive and it was not a way to instil trust, especially when Soundwave was labelled as a traitor.

"Optimus Prime…does not trust me. He does not like me but he needs me. The connection cannot be severed. He allows himself to be used as a puppet by the Council because he is blinded by fatalism."

"You are going to use this bond to your advantage," Shockwave rightfully guessed.

"Opportunity: once in a lifetime. But your assistance: _needed_."

He knew that Shockwave was in serious contemplation; just by the way he had fallen silent on the other line…or was it the bad connection. He could hear static fritzing in the background.

But their relationship transcended far beyond from just being a high Decepticon commander and an involuntary traitor. Leave out Megatron and his power fixation. The War had gone for long enough and it was time set the ball rolling for a final resolution that would end it. And what better way for Shockwave to make use of his strongest advantage - Soundwave's inside expertise?

Finally, the scientist spoke. "What else do you propose, hm?"

"Further proposal: the initiations of a truce between you and Optimus Prime. There is no other way."

"Megatron will not approve."

Well at least Shockwave had not outright refused.

"Megatron: not the _true _commander of the Decepticons," Soundwave insisted.

"No," Shockwave conceded. "He's not. He was a convenient tool at the time. Still is. Very well, I will take your proposal in consideration. Contact me in two solar-cycles if you are able to."

The connection abruptly cut out and Soundwave's hydraulics depressurised with a loud hiss, the tension bleeding out of his tense chassis.

* * *

The massive table shook and energon spilled all over its shiny surface as Xaaron angrily slammed his fist onto it. The rest of the Council members stared at him with mixed expressions on their ancient faces – most sharing his ire though one or two appeared troubled.

"Preposterous!" he shouted. "An absolute outrage! A bond like that cannot be allowed to continue. Optimus and t-that—" He sputtered here. "—Decepticon must be put on trial and executed."

There was a fully-body holograph of the Decepticon in question, suspended in the air above them with a smaller visual of him in his previous Cybertronian alt-mode below it. It slowly rotated, with a scroll of glyphs detailing all his known information; history, associates, symbiotes, weapons and abilities, everything. However, it was far from complete.

"And then what?" Alpha Trion asked dryly. "Look beyond what Optimus has done. Look at the circumstances that surround it. Does that not strike you as odd?"

But Xaaron looked like he was going to implode regardless. "The fool went and bonded with the Decepticons' telepath! The only 'oddness' I see here is his questionable _taste_!"

"Yes!" Alpha Trion excitedly agreed, half-standing as he placed both his palms flat on the table. "Can you even realise the advantage this gives us?"

Xaaron gawked at Alpha Trion. "Have you lost your—"

"Alpha has a point," Gravitas smoothly interrupted, neutral as always. He pushed his fingers into a steeple and gazed at the other two mechs from over it. "This Soundwave is an elite officer. Shockwave's finest apprentice. Think of the blow Megatron would suffer just by losing him alone."

Another mech stood up – Traachon – and pointed at Soundwave's hologram. "He's a dangerous telepath. Who's not to say that he hasn't already manipulated Prime's thoughts by Megatron's order? Gravitas, do you not agree that Prime is now a serious liability?"

"I cannot dispute that possibility," Alpha Trion hastily said, before Gravitas could answer. "However Optimus has assured me that the Matrix can fully suppress his power. He has near full control over Soundwave. The fact that it is the Matrix that has mated them together—"

"And another thing! How do we know that it's not an excuse he came up with? Or maybe it's _broken. _Has anyone thought of that?"

"The Matrix does not lie," Vector Sigma abruptly said. It had been quiet throughout the commotion that erupted the moment Alpha Trion broke the news to the rest of the Council members.

Xaaron sighed and frowned at the image of the bright, multi-faceted orb that was being projected live at the table from the secret chamber it was housed in. "Yes, Vector Sigma but are you sure?"

"Positive," the supercomputer replied. "The Matrix has found Optimus Prime and Soundwave compatible. Their sparks resonate in perfect harmony together."

The last statement had Xaaron's face twist into a sneer and he made a sound of utter disgust. A short, tension-filled silence filled the air around them before Gravitas broke it, his one red optic roving over all of them.

"As far as Decepticons go, the Matrix chose well. As a Cassette Guardian, the rarest of our builds, Soundwave will prove to be very fertile," the one-optic'ed mech said.

"There was nothing wrong with Ultra Magnus or Elita-1," Traachon sullenly said. "They were perfect as chosen Consorts."

"The Matrix found them lacking," Vector Sigma supplied.

Traachon rolled the light in his optics. "So what the Pit did it find in _Soundwave_ then?"

"He will taint the lineage," Xaaron argued vehemently, with Traachon next to him nodding firmly with agreement. "He is from Polyhex. Nothing good ever came out from Polyhex. Bah! Scum, Empties and vagrants."

"It is _said _that he is from Polyhex," Alpha Trion said. "All his records have been either deleted or altered by Shockwave."

"The War has gone too long and we have no resources left. If this is what the Matrix had in mind – a final catalyst that Cybertron needs – then so be it," Gravitas intoned.

"_Must _you always be this fatalistic," Xaaron muttered, glaring towards Gravitas' direction.

Alpha Trion watched as his fellow Council Members squabbled over the matter. The plating fixed upon his upper lip twitched a few times before he suddenly announced with a clear voice, "I have already taken action."

That silenced them.

"Well?" Xaaron peevishly snapped as Alpha Trion calmly sipped from his cube. "Spit it out, mech!"

Alpha Trion deliberately chose to wait a few more moments, just to see Xaaron's mouth pull tighter with impatience.

"I have instructed Optimus to pass Soundwave as one of our own," Alpha Trion declared. "A sleeper agent, if you will. He has informed me that Soundwave has already agreed to this plan. He's made a formal announcement to his soldiers already, I believe."

There were several hisses and muffled curses. It would be impossible to have Optimus Prime replaced now.

Xaaron threw his hands up, frustrated. "And there you go, you decrepit old glitch. Taking matters into your own servos _yet again._"

"As always you refuse to look at the big picture," Alpha Trion admonished, with a stern edge to his voice. "We cannot replace Optimus. He is, in many respects, our most successful Prime yet. To do so would be a big mistake. Also, think of the knowledge that Soundwave must possess on the Decepticons. This was the opportunity we've been looking for; it would be a shame not to take advantage of it, would it not?"

"The key element here would be for him not to take advantage of _us_," Traachon retorted.

Like a creator pacifying bickering children, Gravitas' cool voice was heard. "What is done is done. What is the progress on Optimus Prime's space bridge team? If their bond cannot be undone, then we must ensure that Soundwave is brought here and examined by Vector Sigma. Then we can proceed with an official ceremony, as dictated by tradition, which will surely boost the morale of our dwindling population."

Gravitas' statement had Xaaron's faceplates morphing into an expression of horror.

"I agree," Alpha Trion said. "It may be possible to salvage this mess to some degree."

"And what of the massive security risk this will pose?" Traachon immediately demanded.

"I am certain that the Matrix will be able to contain the telepath if the need comes," Vector Sigma said.

"And it is the lesser of two evils, I'm afraid," Alpha Trion added.

"Contact Optimus Prime. He needs to be informed in order to begin the necessary proceedings as soon as possible," Gravitas said.

A few moments of silence permeated the chamber while Vector Sigma drew up the appropriate encrypted connection. The black screen in front of them activated and the Council members waited for Optimus Prime to answer. After an interminably long while, the Autobot finally came into view, his plating puffed up from recharge and he visibly looked tired.

"Council members," Prime said, bowing his helm slightly. "I have received you. How can I be of service?"

"Optimus Prime, how complete is the work on the spacebridge?" Alpha Trion asked immediately, tapping his long fingers against the smooth table in front of him.

The Autobot paused, seemingly caught off guard by the question. He hesitated and was sliding something across his desk off screen.

"According to my reports," Prime started. He paused. "It should be ready within a decacycle. We've made good progress on it and we've managed to secure some invaluable intelligence on it from several sources."

Vector Sigma made a noise. "That source: Soundwave?"

Optimus reset his optics and stared curiously and the bright ball of energy. "Yes, partly."

"Usefulness: needs assessment," Vector Sigma replied.

Prime was silent at that, unsure of what to say. But Vector Sigma continued for him. "Spacebridge repairs are to be made as soon as possible. Assessment of Soundwave…necessary. Bonding ceremony is to commence."

Optimus looked visibly stricken as the news. "You're not _really _going to make us… in front of everyone on—"

"—Decision has been made," Vector Sigma coolly interjected.

Prime looked desperately to Alpha Trion. "Is this _really _necessary?" he said with a note of desperation. "It's a bit ostentatious and unnecessary isn't it?"

"This is needed to cover for your mistake!" Xaaron snarled. "You will accept it and you _will _go along with it!"

Optimus tilted his helm slightly and conceded. "Yes. I understand."

Alpha Trion managed a small, tired smile. "I look forward to the ceremony. It will bring hope to our people."

Optimus blue optics stared down, away from the Council members. "Yes, I'm sure it will."

* * *

"Would you stop that!"

Bonecrusher ignored Long Haul and smashed another boulder with his fist, sending it spiralling forward into rubble and dust. The Constructicon snarled and kicked one of the large rocks away with his pede.

"Fuck off, Long Haul," the large mech snapped angrily.

The dump truck mech bristled visibly but Scrapper raised his hand and made a sharp motion. "Stop. Not in the mood right now."

"Why do we have to guard this stupid thing? It rarely gets used," Bonecrusher sniped, looking up behind him at the massive Decepticon spacebridge walls. "And the Autobots wouldn't risk destroying it either!"

"We don't know that," Long Haul replied. "They could have their own by now, dimspark."

Bonecrusher made to reply, but a beeping noise stopped him. All three Decepticons turned and stared at a panel on the edge of the entrance to the spacebridge.

"Ha, whoever's at base must be listening to us," Scrapper said mildly.

Long Haul was still staring at the panel. "No…it's really activating.

"No way!" Bonecrusher argued. "There's been no clearance for anything to come here _or _through!"

Scrapper raised his hands defensively. "I never received any codes for transport. No clearance passes either. Whatever's coming through is from Cybertron and whoever it is didn't clear it with Megatron first."

Long Haul took a step backwards as more internal grinding noises from the spacebridge started to activate. Gears whined and a few more panels lit up brilliantly, indicating that it really _was _starting to activate.

"Should we call this in?" Long Haul asked uncertainly.

"No," Scrapper said hesitantly after a moment.

"Why not?"

"I know who it is," Scrapper replied.

"Who?"

Suddenly the spacebridge lit up, the energy spiralling upwards towards the sky. It split the clouds and the three Decepticons shielded their optics, dust and small rocks pelting their frames. Just as the noise became unbearable, it finally started to die down until the connection closed instantly.

The three Constructicons gazed curiously on clearing platform and Bonecrusher pulled his blaster out.

"Shockwave!" Long Haul exclaimed.

Shockwave's gate slowed, the blue glow from his thrusters dimming as his speed decreased from his exit of the spacebridge. When he was completely stopped after the interstellar transportation, he walked to the edge of the platform and paused in front of the three Decepticons staring at him in awe.

"Megatron is not to be made aware of my arrival. Is this understood?" the one optic'd mech ordered smoothly.

"Of course," Scrapper acquiesced automatically, bowing his helm slightly. "We would never betray our lord. I must say it is a surprise to see you."

"Current events force me to attend to matters of grave importance," the huge purple mech replied.

Behind him, a drone became visible. It jumped into the air and transformed into a jet, shooting off into the sky to hover overhead. The drone circled around above them and buzzed out an inquiry at Shockwave's delay.

"Hook is presumably on base?" Shockwave asked.

"Yes, everyone is. We've basically been on standby since the whole thing with…Soundwave. Hook's been welding mechs nonstop from Megatron's rage," Scrapper said solemnly.

"Understood. Inform him that I am arriving."

"Okay," Scrapper said, then saluted.

The three Constructicons watched eagerly as the scientist shot off into the air with the help of his antigravs and quickly flew out of sight. Bonecrusher gurgled out a happy noise and rubbed his hands together.

"Megatron's gonna get what he deserves."

"I _was _wondering when Shockwave would be forced to intervene on this entire thing," Long Haul muttered and moodily kicked a panel on the spacebridge.

"Finally, some order," Scrapper said with relief and leaned heavily against the spacebridge panelling after he sent a ping to his fellow combiner.

Soon Shockwave and his drone were over the ocean, and the tip of the Decepticon base whirred up out of the frothing waves to greet him, the water sluicing off of the platform. He landed easily, with his drone right behind him, and when the doors opened to admit them inside, there was no attendant waiting for them.

Shockwave stepped through into the empty hall, striding forward over the slatted metal panelling of the floor, his optic on the bars at the side that suspended the walkway into the air and over the ceiling of the floor below. Rust clung to everything, along with variable fist and body sized dents in the wall. Another door whirred open for him and Shockwave took the way that branched off to the left into a mini-security room. He passed through there and continued on up the hallway, emerging in the main recreation room.

The loud voices and chatter dimmed somewhat as he walked through the door, several Seekers and Combaticons looking over their shoulders at him.

The purple-plated mech walked around the outside edge of the tables and paused when Hook stood up and approached. The Constructicon laid a friendly hand on Shockwave's shoulder, beckoning him out into the hallway.

Once they were in privacy, Hook's facial expression twisted with fury. "Megatron is going to try to get you to cut back on medical manufacturing to increase weapons production. _You must not let him_," Hook hissed. "We're low enough on supplies the way it is. He's expecting me to start using local materials to simulate some of my own, which is impossible. There is no metal on Earth that's as strong as Cybertronian metal!"

Shockwave raised a hand, motioning for silence. "I understand. I will discuss the issue with Megatron."

The Constructicon gave him a hard, long glare for a moment before he broke away and marched up the hallway towards the medbay, his shoulders hunched. Shockwave stood there for a moment before he beckoned his drone to follow him towards the war room. At the door he instructed the drone to wait while he went inside.

Megatron was at the command console, typing in something while Starscream had his pedes kicked up on the table, looking almost like he was recharging. The Seeker shot upwards when the door opened and he flicked his helm around to stare.

"Shockwave!"

"Indeed," Shockwave dryly said.

Megatron whirled around as well and he snarled out an angry noise. "_Shockwave_. What a pleasant surprise. I was wondering when you would stick yourself into affairs that do not concern you, my old master."

"On the contrary, after your current debacle, it appears that you require all the assistance I can give you," Shockwave retorted.

Megatron created an impressive dent against the wall when he slammed his fist into it. "You'll do well to return back to your laboratory until I send—"

"I will not be threatened, Megatron," Shockwave said firmly with a warning flash of his singular optic. There was no 'lord' when he addressed the massive Decepticon, indicating his own growing ire. "No, I will not leave until I am satisfied that you are capable of leading your troops without destroying them in the process."

Just as Megatron appeared as if he was going to explode, Shockwave divulged his latest news.

"I have spoken to Soundwave."

Megatron stilled for a moment and then narrowed his optics dangerously. "Was the traitorous slut begging to be taken back?"

"The Matrix of Leadership has irrevocably bonded him to Optimus Prime. Neither desired it…it had acted when Soundwave directly attacked it," Shockwave said.

"Am I supposed to believe that?" Megatron bellowed out like a furious beast, causing Starscream to flinch. "I will tear him apart!"

"Soundwave has assured me that he wishes to bring the Council down from the inside," Shockwave continued, unimpressed at Megatron's display of anger. "He is currently awaiting the Iacon Council's verdict."

Megatron paused, and even Starscream seemed interested. A heavy silence reigned for a little while until Megatron made a derisive noise.

"No matter. Soon he'll be dead. With the plan to attack Cybertron and the Autobot base, they won't last long. Then I'm going to take my time with Soundwave and plunder every inch of his frame and crush him with my bare hands!" the warlord vented, mimicking the gesture and grinding the gears together in his hands.

"He suggests a truce," Shockwave finished off.

"A truce!" Megatron whirled around, his energy field rising up around him aggressively. "I will give him his fucking soft-sparked Autobot truce! I'll rip it out of his spark!"

"Perhaps it would be best to allow the troops extra rations tonight, lord Megatron," Shockwave cut in, changing the subject and using the respectful prefix once again. "And I insist we don't change the medical production either."

Megatron's face twisted and his red optics gleamed with dark intent, but Shockwave stood, his frame larger than even Megatron's. His yellow optic fixed unerringly with Megatron's and they engaged in a minute of fierce glaring. The former gladiator was no match for Shockwave's intellect, skill, and general tolerance among the ranks.

Then the purple-plated mech raised a threatening finger at Megatron. "You have lost your sight in this war; I have been observing you for a long time. You are obsessed with Optimus Prime, putting your troops at risk when we should be concentrating on Cybertron. I will _not _tolerate any more of this petty bickering and fighting among the ranks for the top." Here he paused and gave a sharp look to Starscream. "We must start drawing a halt to this war and concentrate on reproduction and resources or soon there won't be any of us left to rule anything!" Shockwave shouted, his voice echoing around the room as he slammed his fist down on the table.

Megatron's lips curled and he quickly walked forth, furious. "You don't tell _me _what to do! I'm the one who has made the decisions for Decepticons! You were too weak to lead and stepped down," he seethed, striking out with his right hand.

Shockwave raised his own forearm and their arms slammed together. Sparks rained down onto the floor.

The scientist flung his arm wide, pushing Megatron's away. "Yes, start this now. You have no third-in-command. The command team is falling apart. Morale is low, and energon is even lower. I put you in this place of power and it would only be too easy to remove you," Shockwave replied.

At that, Starscream's red optics glistened with all the hatred he had ever felt towards Megatron, but the look soon vanished and he was submissive once again.

"_You _were supposed to take the position of third-in-command from Soundwave," Megatron replied somewhat bewildered. He had thought the mech would've taken up the place of his student until there was a suitable replacement.

"No. I said I would train you the perfect third-in-command and you lost him. I will not make you another one. My personal matters on Cybertron draw me there, not here. I don't have time for a couple of pesky Autobots."

Megatron raised his arm, the deadly fusion cannon pointed right at Shockwave's midsection. "I'll make you regret this."

Shockwave motioned to the door, where his drone stood at the ready, one long arm pointed towards the Megatron with a short, slender rifle. "You lose, Megatron," the purple mech said, tilting his helm back in its pivotal socket.

Starscream abruptly stood and smacked his own slender hands on the table, causing both Megatron and Shockwave to shift their attention towards him. He licked his lips before speaking, "Perhaps it would be best if we adjourned early, and I agree with what Shockwave is saying. If we don't change and things keep going as they are…"

The tension was somewhat lowered after that, and both Shockwave and Megatron backed down.

"I will start plotting an appropriate course of action. Balance must be restored in our internal affairs before we make any rash decisions. The current attack plan will be postponed for now," Shockwave slyly added. "I must go. I have things to prepare for."

There was a pause.

"Sixshot will be here soon to … take care of things."

* * *

Omg! Sixshot is showing up. Will this massive fighting machine spell doom for the Autobots?

Review and you might just get a preview of what's happening next!

(In fact, I always give reviewers an upcoming glance at the chapter)

UNTIL NEXT TIME!


	12. Chapter 12

Whew! Another chapter up! This was a longggggg time in the making. University exams wipe me out. Prowl and Jazz fans... this is your chapter. Also, towards the end some tissues might be needed. As always, we appreciate your reviews and I try my hardest to reply to all of them! I hope this chapter cheers up your holiday seasons.

* * *

Chapter twelve

* * *

"We should have the spacebridge up and running soon," Wheeljack said.

Prowl looked unimpressed. "_How_ soon?"

Wheeljack faltered and his helm-fins flashed blue as he tried to come up with an accurate estimate. "Eh…"

Perceptor looked up from where he was hunched over with Skyfire, going over some calculations.

"I'm sure that with a few more tests to ascertain the effectiveness and efficiency of the modular capacitor—"

"_Very _soon," Skyfire interrupted before Perceptor could launch into a jumble of scientific jargon. "Depending on how the tests look."

"I want it finished in five cycles," Prowl said flatly, tapping a datapad against his chest.

"_Five cycles?"_ Perceptor asked incredulously. "That's not _nearly _enough time to finish the tests on the—"

"_Five _cycles," Prowl repeated. "Get Ratchet to help if you need him. I want this finished."

"But sir!"

"This isn't up for argument," Prowl replied coolly. His blue optics flickered and he inclined his head at Skyfire. "Now if you will excuse me, I must be going."

Prowl then turned on his heel and strode quickly out of the room, sharply turning down a hallway to the left.

"Hey Prowl!"

The tactician stopped his clipped pace and Sideswipe nearly smashed into the back of him. The frontliner neatly danced out of the way and skittered to a halt beside him.

"Whoa, you okay?" the red-plated mech asked, holding his hands up defensively.

The smaller black and white coloured mech looked _livid. _His lips were pulled into a tight, thin line and his optics were an icy colour. The doorwings on his back flickered in irritation. Sideswipe was adept enough at reading doorwing language that he took a hasty step backwards.

"Uh it's okay. I'll catch you later when you aren't busy, okay?" the twin said with a forced chuckle.

Then Sideswipe bounded off back up the hall and Prowl's lips creased down even further. Prowl made an irritated noise in his vocalizer and continued up the hallway, but it seemed as though Sideswipe's appearance had taken the edge off. The tactician strode along to the command hallway and stopped again when a figure moved in the doorway to his office.

It was Jazz with his leg propped up against the door paneling, looking smug as always.

"Aw, you look tense."

"Fuck off," Prowl snapped. "You heard the news."

The saboteur shrugged. "Yeah, I'm not that happy about it either. Especially since I'll have to go and be one of those stupid royal guards during the ceremony."

"While _I _on the other hand, have to bear witness to the _entire _bonding ceremony," Prowl said moodily. "Now get out of the way of my office. I have work to do."

Jazz merely smiled and stepped aside to allow Prowl passage through the doorway. But before the doors could close, the saboteur nimbly slid inside. Even alone with Prowl inside the office, Jazz continued to wear his seemingly innocent smile.

"Yo cat, you don't look so cool," Jazz teased, swaggering forward as if he owned the place. The innocence in his smile then morphed into a suggestive leer. "You know I'm always here to help, don'cha?"

Prowl was already sitting in his chair, his optics off. "There's only one kind of help I need, Jazz, and you know exactly what it is."

The tactician kicked his legs up on his desk as he flicked his optics back on, grabbing a datapad in front of him. Prowl attempted to read it before he gave an angry snarl and flung it to the side, the screen cracking as it bounced across the floor.

"I'm currently in a very stressful position, Jazz," Prowl said, glaring up at Jazz. "More than usual. All because of that _damn_ Decepticon… what was Prime _thinking. _Prep Mirage and Bluestreak…Bumblebee too. And my brother. Security is going to be tight at this event because I know someone is going to try something stupid."

"Mhmm…" Jazz made an agreeable sound deep in his vocalizer and hoisted himself up onto the desk to perch himself on it. There were a couple of datapads that sat in a pile next to him and he uncaringly pushed them aside to make more room. They tumbled off the desk and hit the floor.

"Already on it, Prowler."

"Damn it, how many times do I have to tell you not to call—"

Jazz clicked to get Prowl's attention and held out his hand, displaying a small liquid-filled vial that he held between his fingers. He waved it tantalizingly close to Prowl's face and the liquid sloshed inside.

"Oh Prowl, but I come bearing gifts!" Then with a flurry of gestures like he was performing some sort of magic trick, Jazz subspaced the item and held his empty palms out, acting all surprised that it disappeared. "But look!" Jazz exclaimed. "_Poof! _It's vanished into thin air! But don't you worry, I have more!"

Prowl had jerked forward as if to reach for it, but with the vial now gone again, he morosely sat back in his chair.

"You're a Decepticon cocksucker," Prowl muttered. He irritably tapped his fingers against his desk and very slowly his doorwings drooped downwards. "Alright. What do you want in return?"

"First of all…"

The blue in Jazz's visor flickered, the colour draining into a near white that showed the abrupt shift of his demeanour. He backhanded Prowl hard across the face with a loud _smack_.

"Don't give me that when you're cut from the same mould," Jazz snarled quietly. "And you get to be _my _cocksucker right now. And maybe, just _maybe _you'll get more."

Prowl's face was still angled to the side. His lips twitched upwards in an expression of neutrality before he obsessively began running his fingers along the edge of his desk.

"Jazz…" Prowl tentatively began, "you know I didn't mean it like that. Recent events have made the effects very… unnoticeable."

The smaller mech slumped forward and placed his quivering fingers on Jazz. He looked up, his optics displaying true need.

"_Please_. I _need _it."

The glare in Jazz's visor softened slightly and he smirked at Prowl's pathetic display.

"Oh I know you do," the Jazz cooed out, tugging one tapered edge of Prowl's chevron to the side. "Just so happens that I want you to put that poisonous little trap of yours to good use."

He fluidly slid off the desk and neared Prowl. With one hefty push, Jazz pushed Prowl back, chair and all, so he could pull himself back onto the desk. This time he was sitting right opposite the tactician and he obscenely spread his thighs wide. The office's bright light glinted off Jazz's raised codpiece and Jazz gave it a pat, as if beckoning over a pet.

"C'mon," Jazz coaxed. "You know what to do."

The tactician scowled, but his optics remained trained on the saboteur's spread legs. He stood up and was forced to bend over at an awkward angle in order to lower his face with Jazz's panel. With a quick look up, Prowl opened his mouth and drew his wet glossa across the surface. The tactician worked in drawing his glossa across the warm metal, curving his lips down to suckle at the edges. Then, with a sharp glint to his optics, Prowl turned his helm slightly and harshly dragged his prominent denta on the surface, causing sparks to fly up and leaving behind three gashes.

"It's this what you like, Jazz? A little bit of rough treatment and you will interface with _anyone,_" Prowl said, muffled. "Don't you get enough cock-sucking from your lackeys and _love _interest?"

"Tastes sweeter when you do it, Prowler," Jazz purred out with a faint hiss from his vents. "Gets me off so hard seeing you like this."

Jazz's interface panel retracted and his cock extended from its housing, its head glistening already with fluid at the slit. He took it in his hand, gripping it by its thick base and made a pleased sound when he squeezed tightly.

Prowl took Jazz's spike in his warm wet mouth, conforming his lips tightly around the bulbous head to suck. He jerked when the saboteur grabbed the back of his helm and shoved him down, forcing him to take his entire cock at once. The tactician grabbed hard onto Jazz's plating, his sharp-tipped fingers sliding underneath the seams to scratch at wiring.

"Oh yeah, just like that," Jazz growled out, the light in his visor sharpening into a bright, blue line.

The plating around Jazz's thighs puffed out, allowing Prowl to sink his fingers deeper into the wiring and protoform within and the saboteur grunted, his body jerking in mixed sensations of pleasure and pain.

Jazz was enjoying the abuse, clearly.

He grabbed Prowl by the sides of his face, pushing his own digits past Prowl's stuffed mouth and pried the mech's jaw open. Oral fluid gathered around the seams of Prowl's mouth and dribbled past his chin as Jazz held him, keeping his mouth an open receptacle so he could thrust his spike through it. Jazz's pelvic plating smacked harshly into Prowl's face and the tactician reached in between the puffed of pieces of plating to sink his fingers into the mech's protoform. The result was instantaneous – Jazz gasped in pleasure and jerked his hips up erratically.

Then Prowl raked his denta against the cock in his mouth, tightening his jaw and biting at the saboteur's fingers. He stared up angrily at the mech with his light blue optics and knew Jazz was only too happy that Prowl couldn't vocalize his displeasure.

"Mm, oh yes…perfect…" Jazz murmured.

He pulled his spike out, the shaft glistening wetly in the light. There were small indentations across the ridges, the surface a little scarred; the marks of a true masochist. With a tight grip on Prowl's chevron, Jazz held the tactician still and it only took a couple of strokes for him to overload. His hot transfluid splashed all over Prowl's faceplates, the lavender-coloured liquid splattering on his optics and beading at the edge of his nasal ridge.

"Now there's a look that suits you. Spread your legs, Prowler. Finger yourself until you cum. I wanna watch you."

Prowl looked extremely displeased. He wiped at the cum on his face, flicking it off of his fingers. With a moody huff, he sat back in his chair and took a rag from his subspace so he could wipe up the mess.

"Thanks," Prowl replied sourly. "But no thanks. You got the overload you wanted. I have no desire at the moment." The tactician held out his palm as he tossed the dirtied rag to the side. "Give me what's _mine._"

Jazz cocked his helm to one side and the light in his visor narrowed at Prowl's behaviour. He pursed his lips in consideration and covered his own interface array, making himself look decent again.

"Okay then." He procured the vial and placed it neatly on the desk. "I'll be lenient with you this time but the next one is going to be more intensive." He laughed. "But isn't that always the case?"

With one last smirk aimed at Prowl's direction, Jazz jumped off desk and skipped across the room.

"See ya next time when you're in dire need for your next fix, babycakes!" Jazz called out and before he left, he made sure to wolf-whistle loudly.

* * *

The Autobots _had_ tested the spacebridge thoroughly despite Prowl's demands to hurry it up, of course. Just in case to make sure they didn't all end up inside-out with the transfer process.

_"…but don't look alarmed guys, it's perfectly safe," Wheeljack had cheerfully informed them. _

Except Soundwave really did feel like his insides had been rearranged inside-out. Unfortunately the Autobots didn't have the technology quite as _refined _as the Decepticons.

All his gyros spun ten different directions all at once and his sensors had temporarily shorted out from the massive displacement. It was like someone had thrown him halfway across the galaxy in a giant slingshot and when his sensors did come back online, they all did it simultaneously. _That _threw him into a full sensory overload…and not in a good way.

Sideswipe promptly stepped to the side of the skiff they were all standing on and bent over to breathe harshly. Sunstreaker who had been standing next to him began to sway to and fro and his optics flared brightly.

"Primus damn it, Sides, don't you dare—"

Sideswipe violently purged, leaning hard on his knees with his hands.

Unable to fight back, Sunstreaker gave into the nausea that Sideswipe had unwittingly fed him through their bond and with a harsh grinding sound of internals, purged right next to his brother.

Soundwave stumbled on his pedes and had enough common sense to override his programming by clamping down onto the valves of his tanks, just in time to stop himself from purging right into his mask. From his left, where he knew Jazz stood, he could hear the disgusting splatters of half-processed energon hitting the floor and the unhealthy whines of a high-performance engine stalling. The telepath then looked to his right. Optimus Prime was hunched over and was heaving loudly, his large hands splayed on his bent knees.

"What? Why ya'll throwing up like that?" Ironhide asked them curiously.

The bastard merely stood there, completely unaffected.

When the spinning feeling subsided, Prime straightened up and passed a glare to the older mech of the group. "Your cpu is too fried from eons of getting punched in the head for you to feel this anymore, Ironhide," Prime muttered lowly.

The old veteran shrugged, his plating slightly puffed out from the journey, but he otherwise looked unaffected by the arrival.

"Thought this might happen," Hoist said from the back.

He was along as the team's medic and he stepped forward among the group, handing out energon stabilizers while carefully avoiding the soured energon splattered on the floor.

"Primus, that was fucking terrible," Sideswipe finally said, reaching into his subspace for a rag so he could wipe off his face and pedes.

Prime moved forward towards Soundwave's direction and looked at the telepath enquiringly. However after a moment, he concluded that Soundwave was alright and went on to the command console, feeling a tinge of trepidation. He activated the door mechanisms and the gears slowly started to turn.

"Remember to turn on your filtration systems. Cybertron's gravity conductors were destroyed with the war and there is no oxygen. Hydrogen will have to be used in its place. Also, remember to recalibrate your gravity systems… if not, you will go floating out to space," Hoist lectured.

"Yes mom," Sideswipe sighed, much to the medic's chagrin.

The door finally opened and darkness flooded in.

Ironhide made a mournful noise. The cityscape of Iacon was a mangled mess of destruction and waste. The only structures that stood and were relatively undamaged were the gold painted Autobot headquarters laid before them. Autobot guards rushed forward, carefully lining Prime's group, and with them, Alpha Trion. The old mech stepped forward out of the group and he greeted Optimus.

"Alpha Trion," Optimus greeted in return, bowing respectfully.

Soundwave stood a step behind Optimus. It might have been considered as an act of respect, though it spoke more of thinly-veiled submission; standing next to the Autobot leader would have indicated equality between the two.

"Our Prime has returned home to his planet," Alpha Trion said softly, water vapour escaping his lips. Then he turned to Prime's right, bowing his helm and shoulders at Soundwave. "And does our new Royal Consort. I am happy to finally meet you."

Alpha Trion brought up an old, long-fingered hand and twisted it across his chassis as a sign of greeting to both mechs.

"Alpha Trion," Soundwave murmured with a polite inclination of his helm, repeating the complicated gesture after watching Optimus perform it back to Alpha Trion.

The mysterious old mech smiled before he turned to Optimus and clasped him on the shoulder in a friendly way. The group started to walk towards the door that led into the Autobot base, but Optimus paused to look forlornly at the ruined landscape. Water streamed from his vents as Optimus, the largest mech amongst them, walked across the platform.

"Seeing Cybertron again… like this. It all seemed like a bad dream," Ironhide said, clearly dismayed as he gazed out at the ruined city. "It pains me."

Throughout the city the old speedway was twisted and ruined. It had once been a great transportation hub for countless mechs and femmes, but now pieces jutted up into the sky. The giant Autobot battle cruiser _Killtross _was pointed bow upwards into the starry night, a giant hole piercing its hull, completely destroying the command deck. In its heyday, the cruiser had been one of the largest on Cybertron, meant only dock out of orbit. It had been brought down during one of the final battles and had contributed to over half of the city of Iacon's demise.

Prime paused as he stared at it, crossing his arms over his chassis. After a moment, Ironhide jabbed him in the back.

Alpha Trion's voice rang out across them. "We should get inside. We have yet to even begin clearing this place for security threats… especially in this ruin of a city. The city is full of cannibals and Empties. The process to begin clearing it out will take tremendous effort. Iacon isn't even the worst hit. Kaon as you know is…" he added.

Soundwave didn't ask what had happened to his own native city – Polyhex. He had personally seen that cesspool of vagrants and Empties razed to the ground. Of course, he had heard what had happened to those remained – hideous, mindless cannibals that scoured the wastelands for anything living to devour. Ironic enough, their original name _Empties _still remained and transferred over to those who degenerated enough to become them.

Prime bowed his head and moved on. They continued towards the largest structure in the vicinity, utilising a make-shift walkway that was surrounded by forcefield generators and small laser turrets. Beyond their ruined surroundings, the colossal domed structure of Iacon's command centre could be seen. When they reached the armed entrance, the troops ran out in front of them and did smart-about turns, facing them with their blasters ready for any danger that might come their way.

When the fortified double doors slid aside, Prime obviously knew where he was going when he entered the building. Alpha Trion was a few heads shorter than him, but he kept pace easily with the big mech.

"The Council wants to see you right away," Alpha Trion said as they walked quickly through an underground passage that went up into the main building.

At the end they came to another door with guards and again they were permitted through.

"I thought as much," Optimus said tightly.

The group took an elevator up, ascending through many floors. When the doors slid open, the atmosphere was completely different. It was clear they were in the grand palace of the Autobot headquarters. The floor gleamed with care, murals lined the walls and even the foul smell in the air had been exchanged for a pleasant fresh oil smell. Alpha Trion and Optimus stepped out, along with Soundwave, but the rest of the group remained behind.

"How does Vector Sigma feel?" Prime asked quietly.

"He is curious. Most of Soundwave's records have been altered by Shockwave," the elder mech replied. "There is little else on him besides his battle records."

Soundwave didn't say anything to that. There was nothing he wanted to clarify about himself.

There was more walking, more lavishly decorated corridors to cross and the closer to their designation they got, the more nervous Soundwave felt. He had never met or seen Vector Sigma but had heard stories of him. The all-powerful computer that was capable of bestowing life. Soundwave wasn't sure if the myth that Vector Sigma was sentient was true as well and he wasn't sure he wanted to find out.

When they stopped in front of an enormous slab carved out into the wall, Soundwave wanted to pull back. Then that slab split into two and pulled itself apart, revealing a large chamber within, and Soundwave's visor flickered with trepidation.

There was a circular table inside, and seated at it, the rest of the Council members. Vector Sigma shimmered off to the side and even though the multifaceted orb was just a projection, Soundwave could feel its immense power radiating towards him. The telepath's mental barriers shot up by instinct alone, hackles raised like a cornered animal. Without meaning to, Optimus grabbed Soundwave's hand and led him forward into the room. The room was dimly lit, and the Council figures swayed above them like apparitions.

"So our disgraced king has finally returned to his homeland," a voice said.

Optimus recognized it as Emirate Xaaron's and he smiled ruefully. Optimus then remembered he was holding Soundwave's hand and he hastily let it go.

"I am glad you receive me so well, Council member Xaaron," Optimus replied smoothly. "However you may speak of me in private, I ask you to refrain from such language in a public setting."

Xaaron leaned forward and snarled, showing the sharp features of his face and his shockingly gold plating. "You dare—"

"Enough," Alpha Trion snapped from behind the pair. He stepped forward and patted Prime on the shoulder before he turned to the left to climb of the dais.

The bright orb of Vector Sigma seemed to expand in interest, but did nothing else for the time being.

Optimus grabbed Soundwave and pushed him forward. "I present Soundwave… new Royal Consort."

"He's not the Royal Consort _yet,_" Traachon said exasperatedly, leaning forward for a good look. "He must undergo the ceremony with you. Then officially he will be the Royal Consort."

Soundwave recoiled ever so slightly at the way the Council members were looking at him; coldly dissecting him as if he was an experiment laid out on that vast table of theirs. Though the _real _dissecting had yet to begin, he knew.

"He will require a new alternate mode," Gravitas spoke. "One that is more befitting of his stature."

Xaaron scowled. "At least that despicable Decepticon symbol is gone," he said, pointedly looking at the centre of Soundwave's chestplate.

Soundwave glanced down at the clear planes of his torso. Wiped clean like his past had been eons before.

"Soundwave, come forth," Vector Sigma finally commanded.

The telepath turned his helm slightly; catching a glimpse of his mate's plating as if for the very last time, and obeyed the supercomputer. Without a sound, he slid around the back of the seats and stopped right in front of the orb.

Prime made as if to follow, but Vector Sigma wouldn't allow it. With a sharp snap of its energy, Optimus grunted in pain and fell to his knees. The Autobot crawled forward so he could see Soundwave standing before Vector Sigma and for the first time, he sent a strong gush of encouragement through the bond they shared.

Soundwave actually flinched because of it.

Prime withdrew right after that. "Please, Vector Sigma, there's no need to be so—"

"Silence."

Vector Sigma then focused exclusively on Soundwave. In an almost teasing manner, the being swirled its energy around the mech before him, gliding over Soundwave's plating like a parasite.

"Soundwave…who are you?"

Vector Sigma smoothly invaded Soundwave's mind. It wasn't abrupt or sudden, but simple and easy. Soundwave stiffened but made no other outward sign that he was uncomfortable from the invasion. He was always the invader and it was never the other way around. It felt too much like the Matrix and no matter how fast his mental blocks – fearsome in their own right—were shooting up one after the other; they were all shattering like glass. Vector Sigma was impossible to keep out.

_Soundwave…who are you?_ Vector Sigma asked within his mind, words not spoken but felt running along Soundwave's consciousness.

_'Soundwave. Former third-in-command to Megatron, former Decepticon communications officer—'_

Vector Sigma seemed almost bored as it sifted through Soundwave's memories as a Decepticon, lingering on a few select instances before moving forth.

_No, _Vector Sigma insisted, _who are you?_

Its interest lay in Soundwave's life with Shockwave and before that. His time as Ratbat's aide. The first moments he met Megatron. The excitement he felt when Megatron threw him down in a pool of fresh mechblood and fucked him like a wild animal.

Soundwave began to tremble when Vector Sigma dwelled beyond that. It specifically picked out his deepest, most hidden thoughts. His ambitions and goals, his hates, dislikes and the few likes he had. The relationship he had with his symbiotes. What he had with Optimus Prime. His gains and losses. The horrible life he had before Shockwave had found him. Vector Sigma left no stone unturned. Everything was scrutinised to the very last detail.

"_Soundwave. From Deadend, Polyhex. From the Empty caste. Creators unknown. Discovered by Shockwave. Transgressions: prostitution, murder, treason, cannibalism, ritual sacrificial techniques, genocide, deception and manipulation—"_

Panic began to course through Soundwave's circuits._ 'Enough, enough—!'_

But Vector Sigma continued to list everything, as if Soundwave didn't already know everything he had done in his existence from the day he was created. "_—rape, theft, unlawful information extraction technology, torture—"_

Soundwave felt as if his head was going to explode. _'Stop it, stop, stop!'_

"—_unlawful extraction of sparks, bribery, non-consensual coercion, contraband dealing, unlawful weapons development and dealing."_ Vector Sigma paused, abruptly interested at what it found. "_You once carried a spark. It did not survive. Given who the sire was, that is favourable to your current situation."_

A brief fuzzy memory of Shockwave coolly informing Soundwave that his sparkling had not taken to its protoform flashed through him and the pain he had locked away flooded back in like a wave of acid. It stung and ate at his spark. Soundwave's legs gave out and he crashed onto the floor with a heavy _clang_. His claws scratched across the expensive metal surface as he tried to push Vector Sigma out of his mind. It was to no avail. He began to convulse from the intensity in which Vector Sigma blithely raked through his innermost secrets and feelings.

Soundwave found himself being suddenly the mech – the _vermin – _he once was, scavenging the rusted out streets of Polyhex. _'Stop it, fuckin' stop it,'_ he pleaded in his mind, his voice young and coarsely-accented, staticky with the malfunctioning vocaliser that would short out constantly.

"Stop, you're hurting him!" Prime finally shouted.

He lunged forward and grabbed his bondmate, using the Matrix's energy to shield the telepath from Vector Sigma and effectively slamming up a thick barrier between themselves and the entity. The Matrix's barrier was hot and thick and the energy rolled through the room violently.

Silence pervaded the room.

When Vector Sigma stopped its assault, Prime lowered the defences of the Matrix slightly, hiking his bondmate up in his arms to hold tightly to him.

"I've had enough with this. You've seen him, he's bonded with me and he's the Royal Consort officially or not!" Prime snarled.

The Autobot leader turned around and walked down the steps away from Vector Sigma until he was back in front of the room at large.

"I will not allow my mate to be subjugated to _torture _just because you're _curious, _Vector Sigma," Prime snarled. "And if I feel your presence near my mate again I'll remove your projection and keep you locked in the bowels of this planet!"

Shock pervaded the Council. At the end of the row, Alpha Trion leaned back in his chair and smiled. He was the oldest Cybertronian, the first and original. He had sired countless of offspring. No half-sentient supercomputer placed in the Autobots' midst and propelled to the height of a god could faze him.

Especially not a half-sentient computer the _Quintessons_ had placed.

Soundwave was limp in his arms as Prime walked out of the chambers.

"I'm sorry. I didn't know he would… overreact like that," Optimus said softly.

His rhythmic pedesteps were soothing to Soundwave and soon they entered into a smaller area. Prime walked a narrow corridor, passed through a guarded door that opened to a huge hallway and a tantalizing view of the outside. There were huge piles of crystals, all in different colour and sizes.

"The royal garden," Prime said, pausing. "Once upon a time these gardens were highly cared for and beautiful. Now…"

Prime looked away and continued on. They soon arrived in a much smaller room with a berth, where Optimus placed Soundwave upon the surface with a gentleness he had not displayed before. Prime then stood and walked over to the other end of the room to prepare energon for Soundwave. He took it back to the mech and set it down on the table next to him.

"It pains me to see Iacon like this. I'm going to take a team out and we're going to try to clear some areas out. _Killtross _needs to be raised and destroyed… I was so broken when the Decepticons took that cruiser down. She was so _beautiful._"

This Optimus Prime wasn't the same as the last one. There was something different. Something had snapped inside the mech, something _good. _It could have been because he was back on Cybertron, or it could have had something to do with the Matrix. The energy that had bathed and shielded Soundwave was protective and warm, not evil and dark like he had always experienced it before.

Slowly, Soundwave pulled himself to sit up. His mask retracted into his helm and he took the offered energon drink. But it didn't seem as if he was in any mood to drink it. He just looked visibly shaken from Vector Sigma's probing; his lips drawn tight over his denta and the light in his visor giving off unsteady flickers.

"I am functional," Soundwave croaked out without Prime asking him and he bowed his helm so he could rub at his helm crest. "I refuse to be subjected to that again." His voice got louder. "Do you understand? I _refuse_." Then a quiet pause and he averted his gaze. "My apologies…my performance to Vector Sigma's trials was not satisfactory."

Prime touched Soundwave's helm with the tips of his fingers. "I knew he wanted to interrogate you, but I wasn't aware it was to _that_ extent. I won't let him do it to you again," Prime replied. The Autobot handed over a small pack of rust sticks to his bondmate. "Eat these. It'll help with the sickness. Vector Sigma used to do that to me for fun before I had the Matrix."

With a curt nod, Soundwave placed the untouched energon cube back onto the table next to them and took the pack of rust sticks instead. He stared at them; as if he never had one before and gingerly took one out, pressing it unenthusiastically against his lips. The rust granules broke off and stuck to the surface of his lips.

"You did not join it…him…Why?" Soundwave said, sluggishly amending himself.

"No, I did not," Optimus said slowly. "I think our bond is a new beginning for both of us. It's permanent and we'll be together forever. But we haven't courted each other…or know each other first. It's strange and uncomfortable. One thing is for certain – we can't erase the past."

Optimus looked up, gazing out of a shield window into the lower half of the courtyard. The living crystals cast glittering fragments of light, and every so often tiny piece of metal from the air would float closer, attracted by the energy and heat. They were slowly eaten up on contact.

Prime rubbed at his face. "Being back here…it's hard for me. For many reasons." Slowly the large mech slid ungracefully to the floor, his long limbs splayed about haphazardly. "In the city that was so vibrant and lively… now it's dull and filled with the dead. I've lost so many friends to this war." Then Prime began to weep. He covered his face up and his vent hitched quietly, his shoulders quivering. "No one deserves such pain and loss… no matter what faction."

Soundwave stared. Once upon a time, he would have watched a mech pour out his sorrow without a hint of emotion. Except now with his spark in turmoil from the whole Vector Sigma experience, with slivers of sadness leaking in from Optimus' side of the bond…Soundwave could only feel numbness.

"I would not know," Soundwave finally said, so uncomfortable with the sight of the mighty Optimus Prime mourning in front of him for a dead planet that he had to look away.

After a moment Prime stopped and heaved a great sigh. "And what to do now? Would it be best to leave this planet and settle somewhere else? Like Earth? Or unite our people and rebuild this dead planet like we _should _be obligated to do. We are not meant to be a problem for another species. Or should we leave to the planet Orga or Duke… or somewhere else?" Prime lamented sombrely.

There was a lengthy pause before Optimus turned to Soundwave. "What do you think?"

The red visor brightened with Prime's request for his opinion, but was nonetheless very grateful for the change of subject. He ran the quick calculations within his cpu and weight the advantages and disadvantages of colonisation elsewhere _but _Cybertron.

"Earth: inadvisable. Indigenous species will pose a problem. Orga, Duke: all neutrally-aligned, organic. Indigenous species would have to be subjugated which conflicts with the Autobots' current code," Soundwave intoned. "Paradron: Autobot colony. Inhabitants have established their own ruling system. Adamant in their neutrality. Current Autobots and Decepticons too deeply riveted in their belief that Cybertron should be revived. Current conclusion: explore the possibility that Cybertron can be revived."

"I can help with that," Prime said softly, his blue optics glittering. "Because I have a direct link with Primus, who as you know, is this entire planet. Primus is still alive, but he's been in stasis for a long time… in an energy conserving state, not like our stasis necessarily. Primus needs a mass… a _huge _mass of energy to be revived and he can start healing himself. I wonder where we would find that energy?"

Soundwave slid the uneaten rust stick he'd been holding the entire time back into the pack and hunched forward into his seat. "Urban legend: the Matrix of Leadership is part of Primus himself. Confirm?"

"Yes. The Matrix is a piece of Primus' spark," Prime said absently. "Whoever wishes to rule the planet must have the Matrix, and the Matrix must accept him. Otherwise Primus must be in stasis like he is now. The war has taken a heavy toll on him. Even if the planet were to die, there's the assurance that Primus can rebuild himself through the Matrix. But if both are destroyed, the Cybertronian race will cease to exist."

"I have felt the Matrix," Soundwave blandly stated. "I do not wish Primus to revive."

"He is a vengeful god," Optimus agreed. "But I don't think we have much of a choice at this point. We'll have to see what happens with the war."

At the mention of that, the corners of Soundwave's mouth turned down and what could be seen of his expression darkened considerably with spite. The war was not for him anymore; he had been disgraced and pushed aside as Prime's trophy. His energy field pulled in tightly towards his plating and he hunched in further into himself, turning away from the other mech with nothing else to say.

Prime stared at the floor, obviously knowing that the conversation was over. "Drink that energon. I'll send Hoist in to look on you in a bit. Get some recharge…we have to begin plans for the ceremony."

If anything Soundwave seemed to make himself even smaller on the berth.

* * *

Optimus Prime finally sat down on the broken aileron from some giant spacecraft, panting heavily. He was covered in a mixture of debris, ash, and mechblood. The Autobot breathed harshly and his muscle cables quivered with overextension. Next to him, Ironhide was panting equally as hard and the twins continued to labour on ahead of them, clearing debris from the perimeter of the Royal Palace and some of the main streets that had originally been near the capitol building and Autobot Headquarters. Optimus had decided it was time to take action and begin some of the work, ordering a large group of guardians and Autobot forces that had stayed on Cybertron to begin the clean-up.

Still, Optimus had not seen Ultra Magnus.

Elita-1, however, had greeted him as coldly as ever and now her femmes were working just off to the right.

_Crash!_

Optimus winced as a guardian tossed aside a broken piece of a cargo ship with relative ease. The massive mechs were useful and strong, and Prime was only too glad to have them on the team. Each was about as big as Omega Supreme and they followed orders mindlessly like all non-sentient creatures did.

"Primus, I can't remember the last time I've worked that hard," Ironhide said, though Prime could tell the old mech was excited at being able to push forward the energy into something.

Optimus himself made a hollow noise. "Nor I. But we're making good progress. Now if any Empties come close we'll be able to see them."

"And shoot those fuckers before they tunnel into headquarters," Ironhide growled. "Had plenty of time to get acquainted to them when I was out in the mountains south west of here. They'll eat you whole. Metal and all."

Prime couldn't help an involuntary shiver at being eaten alive by cannibals. "We're going to wire mines through here as well… and we need to mark them accurately this time, weapons' master," Optimus chided while he patted the red-plated mech's shoulder.

"I'll never forgive myself for that. Poor Blue… doorwing missin' and all," Ironhide muttered back. "Poor youngling was in so much pain. But he didn't cry, that little one. He's a tough mechling."

"He is an invaluable asset to our time," Prime agreed absently. "His talents and light-heartedness make things much happier."

"I don't think he realizes that," Ironhide said, pushing aside a door panel from someone's alt mode with his foot. "But I promise to wire the mines _extra _safely this time. What's your Empty score now?"

"I've killed twenty today so far," the Autobot leader replied.

"Only twenty!" Ironhide laughed. He slapped Prime's shoulder and stood up, his vents not expelling so hard now. "Thirty-seven for me. Loser pays for the first round?"

The blue in Prime's optics cycled narrower. "You'll regret that."

"You're on!" Ironhide cajoled as he stood up. Then he paused. "Where's Soundwave? I thought he might be out here helping."

The accusation was clear. Prime lifted one massive shoulder in a shrug. "He's still recovering from what Vector Sigma did to him. He was recharging this morning and didn't even stir so I decided to give him the opportunity to rest."

"I see," Ironhide replied, his optics narrowed. The older mech nodded his head and then tottered off, shouting orders to any of the others nearest to him.

One of the guardians had been standing idle. When he noticed Optimus sitting down, he walked over, his giant pedesteps shaking everything.

"Optimus Prime: Status?" it enquired in a booming voice.

"Fine," the Autobot leader replied, waving his hand slightly. "I have many questions."

"Elaborate," the big guardian asked.

"How would it be possible to raise _Killtross _from the city?" Optimus wondered aloud.

"Pieces," the guardian answered.

Optimus rubbed his facemask, playing with the edge of his electrum sword resting on his lap. "But that would take forever. The ship is huge. We don't have the energy to raise up all of the individual pieces… we'd have to clear the area, cut the pieces, secure them to the transport vessel and that vessel would have to break orbit… and go where with the pieces?"

The guardian bent down and showed Optimus a hologram. "Pieces: into the nearest sun. Easiest way to dispose of waste."

Optimus stood up and nodded. "Thank you for your help, guardian."

The huge mech inclined his helm as well before he turned back around and continued his work of moving debris. Prime stood up and followed Ironhide where he was talking to Sideswipe and Sunstreaker about what they were going to clear out next. The task seemed insurmountable to Prime and he stared at the giant wing of the _Killtross _as he approached.

"I need an engineer," Prime said. "To see if we can get the _Killtross_ up and running as a battleship again."

The three mechs gawked at him. Ironhide visually assessed what he could see of the giant ship and crossed his arms over his chest.

"Prime… the energy involved to even start to repair it would be more than we could possibly put forth. This ship was shot out of orbit, plus it was sabotaged. We don't know the extent of the damage…"

"Precisely," Optimus replied. "It's worth a shot. Even if the ship isn't repairable, it used to have a shield class unlike any other since. The possibility of it being salvaged would be… invaluable."

Sideswipe was now looking at the ship that was lying against the skyline. His red plating was smeared and scratched and he paused to look at Sunstreaker before looking back to Optimus.

"We had a friend who was stationed on the Killtross," Sideswipe spoke up, gesturing to his twin and himself. "A top grade gunner. Anyways, we commed him when we saw the ship going down… he was still alive when it crashed to the surface of the planet but there was too much chaos for us to try to send someone to get him out. He was on the lower levels where the underbelly guns were… and he said that the room was mostly intact. Maybe the rest of the ship is too."

Prime looked down, his blue optics trained on the ground momentarily before he looked right into Sideswipe's optics. "I'm sorry to hear that, Sideswipe. But…Alpha Trion would be very interested if we can map out the ship's interior and find the extent of the damage."

Ironhide shrugged. "I agree. Raising the _Killtross _would be… extremely advantageous."

"Alright. Everyone will go for recharge and some energon. We'll meet back here in seven cycles to begin working... and don't forget to download the schematics."

Prime watched as the small group dispersed. He knew everyone was tired from the long day of labourious work, but they had made good progress in clearing the debris from around the base of the Autobot headquarters. At least now they stood a chance to pick off any Empties that would tried to enter.

With one last look at the _Killtross, _Prime also retreated back into Autobot Headquarters.

* * *

Later in the day after a short recharge, Optimus drank his energon cube. Soundwave was next to him, but Prime paid him little attention. The emotional atmosphere from the previous day had evaporated completely, leaving Optimus as impassive as before the exchange with Vector Sigma.

"What is my Prime's schedule?" Soundwave finally asked. An energon cube was in front of him as well, but remained untouched.

Optimus was silent. He leaned heavily in his chair with tiredness, both optics off while he drank.

"I will take a team to assess the damage on the _Killtross_. Then we will map out the core damage and return the results to Alpha Trion," Optimus replied carefully.

"Assess damage: what for? To find useful components?" Soundwave replied, tapping the tips of his claws against the surface of the lacquered table. It was obvious he was bored.

"Possibly."

Soundwave's visor darkened and he made a frustrated click with his vocalizer. "Other possibilities: remain?"

"Top secret clearance only," Optimus said loftily and he slammed his cube back down on the table in obvious annoyance. "Which you do _not _have. The _Killtross_ is _my _ship and I'll do whatever I want with it."

The Autobot stood up and grabbed the weapons he had carelessly tossed to the side, integrating his guns back onto his body's weapon systems. They were hugely heavy and made it difficult to recharge with them on due to their bulk and uncomfortable mooring.

Soundwave hovered near him. "I wish to join you. I do not require information of objective. Top secret security clearance is not needed," the telepath reasoned.

"I would feel more comfortable if you remained here. It will be dangerous," Optimus replied idly as he smacked a forearm mounted gun that refused to pop into place properly.

The red in Soundwave's visor grew darker at the prospect of danger. "Decepticons: thrive off danger. Please allow me to accompany you. I will not make a mistake."

The stubborn gun on Prime's forearm finally snapped into place when Soundwave reached over and twisted the mounting a little to the side. Optimus snatched his arm away and bent over to pick up his electrum sword. After sliding it neatly into a cavity on his back, he briefly inspected his systems and made a click with his vocalizer.

"I already informed you of my decision," Optimus replied waspishly.

With that, the Autobot left Soundwave glaring behind him.

Now out of the Royal Palace and back out on the outside, Optimus was pleased to see that the continuation of the debris removal had been eventful. A few of the roadways had even been cleared as far as the gates that entered Iacon city. Optimus picked up his pace, trotting over to the group he had selected to come with him. Jazz was with them this time, and Ironhide waved a lazy hand at him.

"You're late!" the old weapons' master snapped. "What happened? Recharge too long?" he snickered.

Optimus rolled the light in his optics. "No. My gun wouldn't fit properly into its holdings."

"Is that what they're callin' it nowadays?" Jazz replied with a sharp grin.

"Enough," Prime said in a sharper, more exasperated tone. "We will begin our inspection of the Killtross. I've been informed that the best entrance will be on the right south side where a gash was torn in the hull."

Ironhide winced. "A gash in that size of a hull? Hopefully it's a repairable one."

"It goes without saying that Empties are presumed to be crawling all over the ship. Close range blasters out, nothing huge. I don't want to risk the integrity of the ship with someone's plasma cannons, _Ironhide_," Optimus accused, glaring at the old mech momentarily, "therefore keep it safe and smart. Small blasters… knives and swords too. The Empties here are desperate—" A collective laugh, "—more so than _usual,_ and we would do well to keep on guard. I don't want to lose anyone because of a stupid mistake. We're going to inspect the ship in teams. Sideswipe and Sunstreaker, Ironhide will go with you. Jazz comes with me. Any questions?"

Sunstreaker raised his hand with a sour expression on his face. "Yeah, how come Sides and I get stuck with the _bitchy _one?"

"I'll show you bitchy!" Ironhide snapped, jabbing both twins with the butt of his rifle to get them to turn around. "Now let's go, soldiers!"

Prime and Jazz followed behind as they scaled the debris around the rear of the _Killtross_. Every so often Optimus would call for a halt, stilling completely so they could listen to see if they were being followed. It was hard, but thankfully Jazz was more skilled at it than the rest.

_"There are a few,"_ Jazz said over an open communications channel, _"they are following us deep below the rubble. Possibly down on the first floor beneath the surface. Old subway tunnels I think. The noise they make is very slight… but it's easy to discern if you're a properly trained."_

_"Thank you Captain Obvious,"_ Sunstreaker snapped over the line. _"Next time I'm having a good self service I'll remember how great you are and cum to your holy title."_

The ensuing laughter over the line made Optimus smile as they continued forward. The smaller mechs sidled past two huge chunks of metal ship that were pressed closely together, but Optimus was too big and forced to climb up and quietly slide down the other side.

_"Thought you did that already?"_ Jazz quipped back, earning more snickers in return. _"Unless the other night was Sideswipe. You twins are hard to tell apart frame-wise."_

_"Hey, don't drag me into this!"_ Sideswipe snapped.

_"Enough comm chatter,"_ Optimus said firmly. _"We will soon be entering the ship. Ironhide I'm switching you with Jazz. Jazz is right, he does know most about the Empties and he'll be able to help the twins more. Ironhide and I have our fair share of dealing with them."_

_"Optimus taking my recommendation? What is this?"_ Sunstreaker said in a bored voice.

_"It's not because of you_," Optimus replied testily. _"Now stop. I grow tired of the bickering."_

Two cycles had already passed since they had started out to find the entrance of the ship. A long gash started to appear along the ship's right underbelly, disappearing underneath.

"_This is it; look for a gap wide enough to be used as an entrance_," Optimus instructed.

The group split up, searching around the belly of the ship that was resting on the ground until Sideswipe made a triumphant noise. "Here. Might be a bit of a squeeze for Prime though."

The Autobots pulled away some rubble and sheets of metal debris. Jazz peered up the hole inside the ship, his headlamps shining brightly. "Looks safe. I'll go up first and have a look. Twins to follow. Prime's last since he's heaviest."

Optimus turned around when Jazz started to climb up into the belly of the ship through the hole. They couldn't have been the first to discover this entrance, and undoubtedly they were being observed. Optimus held a small blaster gun at the ready, scanning the landscape until Jazz's voice came through the communicator's line again.

"_Condition of ship is actually really good besides this impact gash. It must have slammed into something really sharp or shielded, otherwise I would say the crash would have done little structural damage."_

_"So there's hope that we might be able to save it," _Optimus responded, the relief palpable in his tone. _"Or at least scavenge some parts."_

When the rest of the mechs had gone through, Optimus followed as well. The gash of the ship was rusted from exposure, and a trail of a suspicious looking brown fluid had dripped down the thick tear to the outside. Optimus climbed up dutifully, his back scraping painfully into some of the narrower spots, but when he emerged on the lowest level of the ship, Optimus was instantly hit with the scent of decay.

"Primus," Optimus muttered.

All around them were the decayed, grey bodies of Autobots. Most of them had been stripped open of all useable internals.

Jazz suddenly collapsed onto the floor.

"Jazz!" Optimus said sharply.

The small mech was weeping weakly on the floor, banging his fist against the partially cracked surface of the deck.

"My bondmate! My bondmate! I must find him! Whatever is left…I must find him!" the saboteur cried weakly.

The blue in Optimus' optics widened. He had completely forgotten that Jazz's bondmate had died with the destruction of the Killtross. No wonder the saboteur had been so eager.

Optimus reached down and helped Jazz to stand on his pedes. "I forgot. You shouldn't have come here."

"No, I need to," Jazz said softly, his vocalizer crackling with static. "I need to find him. I swear if they fuckin' ripped him apart I'll—"

"—we'll find him, Jazz," Optimus interrupted. "And we'll give him a proper rite of passage. Just like we'll do with everyone on this ship soon. They deserve it."

Optimus carefully stepped around a body of what would have been a big gunner mech. The gray carcass was missing the lasercore and all internal components, but the spinal strut and outer protoform remained. Even the head hadn't been spared – the cranial cap had been sliced open cleanly and all parts removed, including the optics.

"Jazz, are you able to continue with the mission?" Optimus asked, reaching down to touch the mech's back.

Jazz flung an angry arm out and shoved Prime's hand away. "I'm fine. Let's go."

"Alright, we'll continue on. There might be a whole nest of Empties here, so I don't want anyone wandering off down any of the corridors. Previous plan... aborted. We stick together," Optimus said quietly, his optics darting around the broken walls and gaps in the ceiling.

"Good," Sideswipe said. "This shit is disturbing."

The floor creaked underneath his weight as he stepped forward and Jazz jumped forward and held a hand warningly against Prime's midsection.

"Sorry big bot, but you're going to have to take the rear. You're too heavy."

"Discrimination," Optimus complained moodily as the rest of the team filed in front of him.

The hallway was strewn with broken metal chunks, strange coloured stains on the floor and flecks of rust creeping up the walls. With only their headlamps to see, and infrared mostly pointless, the dim corridors were lit with a ghostly light, which occasionally illuminated a dismembered body.

"Look," Ironhide said, pointing ahead.

A huge gun turret that was retracted into the hull of the ship was tipped over on its side. The gun barrel was retracted into itself and several huge casings of missiles were strewn out to the side, along with a few rounds that were still live.

"Slag, be careful. If one of these goes off, it'll explode this entire section of the ship," Ironhide commented as he observed the missiles from a distance, shining his headlamps over the area to see the various ammunition strewn around.

"Do they have an expiration date?" Optimus asked.

"Yes, I'm shocked none of them have gone off yet. Especially with the Empties messing with things they shouldn't," Ironhide replied.

A sudden clicking noise caught Optimus off guard.

He froze and spun around, lunging forward to collide bodily with a surprisingly _large _force. The hit sent him skidding to the side, slamming hard into a wall.

There was little time to recover. Four Empties rushed through a passage behind Optimus, landing onto the ground lightly where they scurried over to the rest of the group, wailing their Empty cries. They no longer had plating and barely resembled a Cybertronian. Naked struts, wiring and energon pumps were all that was left.

However, the original Empty that had assaulted Prime _did _have plating except on his helm. With a hiss of aggression, Optimus lunged forward again and slammed into the mech, grappling with the sharp clawed hands that kept going for his neck. The beast snapped its maw, mismatched optics unerring and disturbing as it clacked its jaws and made a noise like two pieces of metal being rubbed harshly against each other.

Optimus struggled to push the mech back. He pressed hard with the arches of his pedes against the grated surface of the floor, pushing the Empty back against the downward slope of the hallway. Suddenly Prime dropped to the floor, kicking out viciously with both of his legs while simultaneously curling the deadly arches of his pedes inward to use as a pair of talons – the result was a sickening crunch of the Empty's legs where the frail knee joints snapped in half. Optimus then surged upwards and with a fierce slice of his hand, severed the mech's head from his spinal strut. It lolled to the side obscenely, spraying over-processed, disgusting mechblood outwards in a fine mist that soon died. The head rolled off down the hall where they had come.

However Optimus had barely stood when he was tackled by a much smaller force. He went rolling and hissed with pain when a pair of sharp claws jabbed into his sides, expertly seeking out his vital fuel lines.

"Fuck!" Ironhide shouted from behind Optimus.

The rest of the team was fully engaged with fighting the fast moving Empties, unable to shoot or risk triggering a reaction with the leftover shells from the Great War.

Optimus reached behind him, trying to get the savage Empty off of his back, but he couldn't reach it. With bright blue optics he slammed his back hard against the wall next to him, reaching around to pull off the small grotesque cannibal to toss it across the room where it snapped its huge maw one last time before going offline.

Prime saw the next one coming. It bounded across the floor on all fours, coolant water streaming from its partly severed mouth. Optimus drew his electrum sword out and parried to the side, easily dodging the small creature while he beheaded it with ease when he spun to the side.

Optimus slid the sword back into the hold on his back, then looked for the next target, his battle mode still activated.

"Is everyone okay?" he called.

With a _thunk_ and a squeal, Sunstreaker stabbed the last Empty viciously in the head before pushing it away from himself with his knee.

"Yeah, we're fine Prime," Sideswipe called.

"I didn't even hear those fuckers until they attacked," Jazz said, flicking his hand out to splatter some of the disgusting smelling black energon on the wall. "They've evolved…or degenerated these ones. Pure instinct now."

"Optimus, are you alright?" Ironhide finally asked as he stepped closer to his leader with a concerned look in his abnormally bright optics.

"Yes," Optimus said a bit gruffly. "We should go before more come."

The group continued on, taking a hallway to the left.

_"Where was Meister last located?"_ Optimus asked through the communication's unit again.

"_Medbay_," Jazz answered stiffly.

The group trotted on, with Prime in the back trying to keep his steps as quiet as possible. The feat was fruitless, but Optimus continued his scans of the interior of the ship.

_"It's so huge in here,"_ Sideswipe commented. _"No way we'll be able to go through all of it today, right?"_

_"I agree,"_ Prime said. _"With all the debris in here, we'll never get to the engine room."_

_"Then let's stop in the medbay and find Meister. We need more muscle to really get down into the bowels of the engine room,"_ Ironhide commented. _"I want a few snipers posted around this ship. We'll have the entire Empty population of Iacon in here if we make too much of a presence."_

The ship suddenly creaked eerily. Optimus hissed, calling for a halt as a mournful noise of bending metal echoed throughout the cargo bay they were in. The space was huge and Prime's headlamps couldn't illuminate the other end of the unloading bay.

"My suggestion is we get to the narrowest hallway as soon as we can. There's a fuck _ton _of them coming towards us fast!" Jazz shouted.

Optimus took his subordinate's advice and started to run, along with the rest of the crew. Prime turned and glanced behind him, unable to see any body heat in his infrared, but he knew the Empties were right behind them. A hand suddenly swiped into the field of Prime's light, spurring him to move even faster. They skidded into a narrow hallway that rose at a sharp incline.

"The medbay doors should be right up here!" Jazz yelled.

The grated incline ended, opening up into a wide chamber with two large doors situated to the side. They were tightly shut, but the right had a huge crater sized dent in the blast proof doors. Prime spun around and with a fierce howl, flung himself forward at the nearest Empty behind him. He knocked it over into the one behind it and reached on his back for his sword, rushing forward so he could stamp on the fallen cannibal's head to cleave through the one behind it.

However the hallway was short and Optimus was knocked off balance by slamming the flat of his blade hard into the wall. Sparks flecked down and Optimus retreated, narrowly avoiding a sharp pair of claws from an Empty that had anchored himself onto the ceiling. The thing dropped down and Optimus was only able to avoid it by jerking back, tripping over his own massive pedes on the incline of the ramp. Reactively the Autobot shielded himself with his arm at the impending blow from the Empty.

Nothing. A cool, calm energy swept over Optimus' spark.

The large mech looked up. The Empty in front of him stopped moving, angling its broken face to the side as if in mock curiosity. An optic was hanging lose from the thing's face by a dangling cord and Optimus stood, taking a hasty step backwards. Then, the Empty's head detached itself completely from its neck and the body stood convulsing for a few seconds, black fluids bubbling out of its severed stump before it finally collapsed. Prime's headlights shone brilliantly, just in time to illuminate a blood-spattered Soundwave behind it. He uncaringly dropped the head he had wrenched off and it cluttered off somewhere in the shadows.

"You! What are you doing here? I told you to stay at the palace!" Optimus snapped angrily. He sheathed his sword, crossing his arms over his chassis.

Soundwave lowered his stained hands back to his sides. "Incorrect: Optimus Prime: stated he would be more comfortable if I stayed. I wished to sacrifice some of my bondmate's comfort."

"You knew precisely what I meant," Optimus snarled, stalking closer.

He slammed the telepath up against the wall, flaring his energy field out angrily. The large mech leaned down so close to Soundwave's face that their facemasks were almost touching. Soundwave's visor was already glowing an ember red and his energy field coyly pretended to be submissive, despite the fact that Prime could feel the anticipation boiling just underneath.

"Are they the danger to me?" Soundwave murmured with a low tone. "Or are _you_?"

Prime could feel the slide of Soundwave's hot plating against his body and the bond allowed him to experience the fast pulsing of the telepath's spark, just behind that glass chestplate. It was intimate, exciting, and alarming.

A flare of sexual aggression leaked from Optimus causing Soundwave's spark to pulse even faster. "_I'd fuck you right here you smarmy little—"_

But then he stopped, realising that they had a crowd watching them. He let Soundwave go and brandished a finger at him instead.

"Don't do it again," Prime warned, turning back while the twins stepped aside for him. "Can we get into the medbay?" he asked tetchily.

Jazz had paid no attention to the exchange. He was struggling with the two sides of the door, trying to wedge a knife in between so he could attempt to pry them open.

"No… they're stuck," the saboteur finally conceded.

"Step back," Optimus instructed.

He reached into his subspace and pulled out a cylindrical rod. When it activated, it instantly burned a hole into the floor and Optimus pulled it up, cutting away the giant blast doors of the medbay. A molten chunk fell off and landed near his pedes.

"What caused that dent? These doors are as thick as I am tall," Ironhide rumbled.

"Something from the inside, obviously," Optimus snapped.

Sunstreaker had taken several steps backwards, staring at Soundwave with suspicious optics.

"Is this one…" Sideswipe said slowly, pointing at Soundwave, "supposed to be out here?"

"He has a name and yes, he's fine," Optimus replied.

Sideswipe held his hands up apologetically as if to say 'sorry you're in a bad mood, dude' but before more words could be said, the sounds of metal hitting against metal echoed up through the pipes around them. They were all on high-alert, bodies tense and ready to defend themselves.

Jazz whipped his helm around, his visor fixating directly onto Soundwave.

"I know what mods you got hiding in there," he harshly said. "What aren't you telling us?"

Soundwave shifted his weight from one pede to another and tilted his chin back to peer over his shoulder, seemingly unconcerned. "I can sense them a level below us. Amount: over twenty in number. In addition: there are three hostile combatants to the left of us. Distance: currently half a joor and closing."

As if on cue, a rattling hiss travelled down the dark hallway.

"I am adept at dispatching the threat. Should I terminate?" Soundwave asked monotonously, addressing his bondmate.

With an angry growl, Optimus reached across and physically grabbed Soundwave, pulling him close to his side. "_No,_ you shouldn't even be here right now. If you think I'm going to allow you to do as you wish because you purposely disobeyed me, you're _very _wrong."

"My deepest apologies, my lord," Soundwave said.

Sunstreaker raised his blaster and fired down the hallway, illuminating the dark tunnel for a brief second. The Empty squealed in pain, dropping back as another one came running up behind him, nearly silent. With an irritated noise, Ironhide walked next to Sunstreaker and reached up where two guns were holstered on his back plating, he drew them over his head and they transformed into an even larger weapon when he finally brought them down to bear.

"Watch and learn kid," Ironhide snickered.

Optimus could hear the whine of the weapon as it charged. He stopped to look as it fired a brilliant blue blast, spraying the hallway and three Empties in a thick coating of liquid nitrogen. Then the red mech fired off a slug, causing the entire hallway and Empties to shatter into a trillion pieces. Next to Prime, Soundwave stared elsewhere as if distinctively bored with the whole affair.

Prime drew a hand up to his facemask. "Ironhide. Please, I want to _repair _this ship." However, a moment later, Optimus noticed his mistake and glared at Soundwave for being there. "You ever repeat that and I'll make sure you never see the light of day again," he snarled at his bondmate.

"Would you prefer that I return to the room assigned to us?" Soundwave asked.

It was apparent that Prime was growing distressed with the entire situation and Jazz tore his gaze away from the door for a moment to stare at the telepath. "No, you're staying here," Jazz said. "Then when we get back, Alpha Trion's gonna pay you a little visit. See what you've been up to running around out here."

The air of indifference that hung around Soundwave rippled slightly, displaying just for a moment his own exasperation. He tore his own gaze away without a word and took a step away from the both of them.

"As you wish, my lord," he intoned.

The last piece of the doorway was only hanging by a thread of metal. Optimus kicked it out of the way and stepped through to the inside. His headlights cut through the darkness, bringing light to the inside of the chamber that had obviously not been entered in a long time. A thick layer of sediment and metal flakes were laying on the floor, along with upturned medical berths and a plethora of scattered bodies and body parts. A part of the ceiling fixture had collapsed, cutting the room in half, but it had apparently not compromised the security. Part of it had slammed into the doorway, effectively preventing the doublewide doors from ever opening again.

"Oh, I forgot the medbay had two levels," Ironhide said. "This is obviously the floor from the second room."

Sideswipe cautiously stuck his head inside the room through the makeshift doorway. "If it's okay with you guys, I'm staying out here."

Optimus looked back, motioning to Sunstreaker as well. "Stand watch with Sideswipe."

Prime then issued a sharp growl to Soundwave, flaring his energy field. "You stay with me. No wandering off."

There was little else they could do but begin piling the bodies in one end of the medbay. Each one that wasn't Meister was both painful and uplifting. Optimus knew Jazz wanted to see his bondmate again, but he also knew that confirming his death would make it that much more unbearable.

When most of the medbay had been cleared, Optimus finally noticed a figure laying against the main console towards the end of the room. He padded over, carefully stepping over debris with Soundwave right behind him. The mech was red in colour, and besides being offline, appeared to have no significant wounds. Optimus peered closer, noticing his Decepticon symbol and a tiny flashing light on his exposed medical port, a cord sticking out and connected to the console.

"We have a live Decepticon!" Optimus called out.

Ironhide was beside him in an instant, gun raised while he warily watched the figure.

"Should we kill him? He's just leeching from the system's battery unit," Ironhide grumbled.

Optimus flipped open a tiny port on the mech's wrist and extracted a tiny chip. He inserted it into another port on his own wrist, silent for a moment as his systems read the Decepticon's data.

"Part of the Decepticon special ops."

Soundwave's flat voice answered the rest of their unanswered question concerning the Decepticon's identity. "Designation: Mindwipe. Do not bring him out of stasis. Recommendation: terminate him. Subject: too troublesome."

Optimus glanced at Soundwave once before he pulled the Decepticon's plug out from his medical port, disconnecting him from the console. He roughly turned Mindwipe around so he was laying on his front. Optimus pulled at the Decepticon's neck and carefully severed the wires of his spinal struts with no compassion, leaving him paralyzed.

"We'll bring him out of stasis back on base. Alpha Trion will deal with him."

Somehow, an annoyed tone managed to creep into Soundwave's monotone. "Mindwipe: hypnotist. Recommendation: blindfold him. His control modifications are located behind his optics." Soundwave's vents exhaled deeply as if to say 'you foolish Autobots'.

Optimus reached forward and smacked Soundwave harshly, sending the mech spinning to the side. "We'll deal with it, my _queen,_" Optimus snapped.

He grabbed Mindwipe again, and taking a knife from his subspace, stabbed the blade right through the Decepticon's optic. He ground the knife against the back of the ocular cavity, creating a sickening noise as he twisted it and then pulled, yanking the wires out. He did the same with the other optic, then crushed both of them in his hands and grabbed Soundwave's, giving the mashed-up pieces to his mate.

"You happy now? My precious, pretty, little bitch of a queen?"

The red in Soundwave's visor _blazed _with fury. Though the bond between them was locked tight, it was easy to discern the rattled energy field that rolled off the telepath. He crushed the remains of the optical glass in his palms.

Optimus stepped closer, lowering his helm to the height of his bondmate's. "Turns me on when you get so angry…makes it _so _much fun to fuck it out of you later."

Soundwave actually hissed low in his vocaliser at that and turned away, stepping past Ironhide who was pointedly ignoring them both. Then Prime slung the still-unconscious Mindwipe over his shoulder and strode off so he could dump the Decepticon by the doorway with Sideswipe and Sunstreaker. The large mech in stasis slumped down and flopped to his side while both twins sidestepped him, unwilling to help or even touch his plating with the tip of their pede.

"All clear, sir," Sunstreaker informed Prime.

"Good. We'll—"

He was interrupted by the loud noise of debris being thrown to the side. Jazz was digging into a large pile of twisted metal, support struts and jagged pieces of plating from where the ceiling from the second level had sustained the most damage. The saboteur had obviously found something of interest and he was trying to yank out the large pieces so he could clear some room.

"C'mon…c'mon…" he was saying to himself, completely absorbed in his task.

There was a greyed-out arm half visible from beneath the rubble, palm facing upwards. A closer look to Jazz's face revealed his tightly drawn mouth and the wild blue glow from his visor. He had found his long dead bondmate.

Prime nodded at Ironhide who had slung his weapon over his shoulder and hopped quickly over the debris so he could help Jazz remove the final pieces. When Prime neared them just in time to push away a fallen medical observational unit, Jazz dropped to his knees and banged his fist against the floor. His vents stuttered, distressed clicks and static pouring out of his vocaliser unheeded. The long cold body of Meister had remained thankfully intact from the neck up. What had killed the unfortunate mech was a massive piece of equipment that must have flown at him at lightning speed, causing his chestplate to cave in from the impact and his lasercore to crack. There were still shards of it embedded into the empty cavity of his chest.

"He would have felt no pain, Jazz," Ironhide said softly. "It was quick."

Jazz carefully pulled Meister's limp body out, cradling him to himself. He rocked himself on the floor and sobbed silently, rubbing his face against Meister's.

"Why the _fuck _did Prowl have to fucking decide to stop for lightspeed _right _out of the planet's atmosphere? If that _idiot _had waited Meister would still be alive!" Jazz shouted angrily.

Optimus put his hands up. "Prowl wasn't conspiring an end because he wanted to, Jazz. Prowl was making his best calls as a commander and it didn't work. Everyone makes mistakes."

"This was a big slagging mistake!" Jazz snarled.

Optimus Prime looked away. "He'll be the first to admit that."

* * *

Optimus was the Autobot officiator of funerals. With his title, it fell to him to recognize and honour the Autobot dead in the ways that their customs dictated. Meister was no different – as a medic he was given special honour for his service and laid to rest upon one of the crystal tables in the royal gardens. Only the small group of Autobot Optimus had brought with him attended the ceremony – Soundwave was not allowed and not welcome.

With Jazz kneeling in front of his bondmate, clutching onto him, Optimus sang a low and sorrowful song in high Autobot, casting a stillness over the entire garden.

"We cherish and mourn our forgotten dead," Optimus finally spoke. He stepped forward and brushed a hand across Meister's face, then Jazz's. "His spark lives on in the undying well of allsparks, cradled next to Primus."

The crystal bed that Meister was laying on suddenly lit brilliantly, along with the rest of the beautiful crystal gardens following, with every colour being seen. It painted everything in a mosaic of imagery, perversely beautiful for what the real intent of the spot was.

Slowly Meister's body began to break down. The crystals contained an element that ate the special metal of Cybertronians, breaking it down and using it as energy to keep growing. The crystal gardens were memorials to the dead as much as they _were _the dead.

Jazz clutched Meister's hand until it came time to let go.

* * *

As always, leave us a review!


	13. Chapter 13

AN: My goodness, a chapter already! Why yes, yes it is! I hope everyone is thrilled with this chapter...and don't forget to toss us a review! We always enjoy engaging questions, and we try to explain our methodology to our readers when they don't quite understand something. A PM would also be a perfect way to ask a question. On this chapter, we have a lighter note. Enjoy!

* * *

Chapter thirteen

* * *

"This way please," the aide said.

Soundwave barely heard the other mech, his visor dim as they passed corridors upon corridors. His legs moved on their own, automatically following the aide while the sharp scent of new, high-quality paint assaulted his olfactory sensors, freshly applied and cured on his chassis. They passed another polished wall and Soundwave turned his helm, catching a momentary glimpse of his changed body.

As ordered by the Council, he had scanned the satellite alt-mode they had so…graciously provided. It was of the latest design, streamlined and it showed on his body. Most of the bulk was gone from his upper torso and below his knees. His chest was still broad, but smoother and much curvier in comparison to the boxy shape of his previous tapedeck form. The satellite design still catered to his Cassettes of course, though the glass-like plates of his chest were thicker and darker in colour, obscuring the empty space where he would store his symbiotes.

On his chest, there was still no depiction of the frowning Autobot face; he had flat-out refused to bear the enemy's insignia. Instead, he wore the simple lines depicting the Matrix of Leadership itself. Many of the Autobots wrongly believed that the Matrix's symbol was synonymous to their faction. In reality, it marked Soundwave as exclusively loyal to the Prime alone.

Nonetheless, his new form was not the easiest mode to get used to.

Soundwave was still adjusting to it, barely given any time before he had been ushered straight into the paintworks facility. Lines of code continued to stream down in front of his optics, his systems calibrating and recalibrating to upgraded monitoring and scanning equipment, new boosters and Primus… _wings. _His new alt-mode came with ridiculously long, articulated solar wings that already acted as if they had a mind of their own. He had a Pit of a time grasping the command from within the maelstrom of altered directories, barely managing to fold the bothersome appendages into the plating of his back after he had nearly smacked one of the idiot Autobots in the face.

Soundwave abruptly stopped when the aide did. Big, heavy double doors slid open upon their arrival.

"You are to be washed, polished and accessorised," the shorter aide said, as he gestured him inside.

The telepath barely spared him a look and walked stiffly by and straight into an antechamber. The doors slid shut behind him and Soundwave noted that the aide had not followed him inside. Just as well; Soundwave's nerves were so frazzled and his body so tense that he was close to committing murder. If Soundwave had been any other Decepticon, he would have most likely broken down by now, collapsing in a pile of panicked, hysterical laughter at the sheer _irony _of it all.

He, the Royal Consort.

It seemed like a position that was better suited for Starscream, whose sole purpose of existence seemed to be posing underneath the limelight. But no, this farce of a situation had undoubtedly gone too far; if Optimus merely tolerated him before then Soundwave was certain that the Autobot leader must absolutely hate him now for being shoved into such an unenviable situation.

No matter. Soundwave steeled himself, locked the struts in his arms in a gesture of utmost determination and proceeded onwards.

Soft light and running water greeted him.

The antechamber had been relatively small and plain, but the main chamber itself was exactly the opposite. It was a massive bathing area, the atmosphere within hot and humid with cleansing chemicals. Soundwave took a moment to take in the glittering murals that ran on every wall, decorating the metal with images of strange, alien wildlife and the high, vaulted ceiling that loomed above him. The room also boasted a sunken pool that could easily accommodate at least ten triple-changer class mechs. A long, gilded stem rose up from the middle of the pool and fanned out into the air like an organic tree with showerheads for those wishing to bathe. Several channels ran along the side of the pool, pouring in liquid, though those were more for aesthetic purposes than anything else. The magnificence of it all sickened him.

Another Autobot, this time a green and white femme, entered the bathing area through a side entrance. She walked with submissive grace, her slender pedes taking measured steps on the floor and in her hands, she held a container filled with various cleaning equipment.

"Welcome, my lord," she said as she neared him, her optics professionally downcast. "I am to oversee your preparation for the ceremony."

Soundwave inwardly sneered at the title and he stared at her, his gaze raking over every feature that her small chassis had to offer. He made no effort to disguise his telepathy and he easily entered her mind, skimming over her memory cores and personality chips so he could assess her intentions. The femme gasped at the intrusion, her optics flaring just a little. To her credit, she did nothing but stand there and waited for his answer. Disappointed at her complete subservience, Soundwave withdrew.

"Proceed," he stated.

"Of course, my lord," the femme said with a nod and gestured towards a long counter bolted on the wall at the corner of the room. "Please deposit all weapons, including any subspaced items. Then, please proceed to the centre of the pool."

She flicked a hand at the pool itself and a muted, mechanical whine was heard somewhere beneath them. Soundwave could see the column in the middle of the pool rise up even further, connected to a round dais that had been submerged into the water. A suitable standing area that was perfect for one who wished for a quick rinse before slipping back into the pool for a relaxing soak. The femme began to make her way into the pool and he watched absently as her plating shone with wetness each time the water lapped at her, darkening the thin armour around her waist.

He had no weapons – the Autobots had temporarily confiscated them under the pretext that he didn't need them now. Stifling a weary sigh of his vents, Soundwave stepped off the edge and down the wide, finely crafted steps. The water was shallow, barely reaching up to his knee joints, deepening only slightly to his waist as he waded towards the raised dais.

One of the showerheads was already on by the time he reached it and he stepped up onto the platform to stand underneath the gentle spray. The femme immediately kneeled by his legs, helm bowed and armed with a brush.

"Please raise your leg, my lord," she instructed.

Soundwave locked the gears in one leg to keep his balance so he could raise the other. She pressed the palm of one hand against the flat of his pede and craned her neck backwards so she could clean at the intricate plating and Soundwave twitched as the brush's long bristles ran gently against the small thrusters fitted underneath. Her strokes were careful, not wishing to agitate any sensors or ruin the dark paint.

Soundwave's lips tightened and he stretched an arm out to brace himself against the column next to him. "How am I going to be presented?"

The femme made a soft, humming noise in her vocaliser. "My lord?"

Even his monotone managed to sound impatient. "What are you going to do to me?"

She paused for a moment before motioning him to lower his leg, already finished with it. "Your frame needs to be cleansed thoroughly; waxed, polished and painted upon before any other preparations are to be made."

"Elaborate. Specifically: _thoroughly_ and _other preparations_."

"Tradition states," she began, "that _all_ areas are to be cleansed thoroughly. You must not wear any mouth coverings. Also—" Here her optics dimmed and dulled, indicating that she was accessing data from within her cortex, "—your alternate mode has wings. I strongly suggest you unfold them for the ceremony if you are to display your best features."

The blue optics returned to their usual brightness and the femme inclined her head, hummed once and replaced the brush she had been using for a thinner one, specially formulated for those tricky plating gaps. She continued to speak.

"Please my lord; there is no reason to be tense. There are several guards outside this room to protect you. One of the attendants will help you with whatever you'd like. I know this place is very foreboding. I realise this because I come from Kaon's southern sectors—"

Soundwave's visor brightened at the femme's words as he listened. All he wanted to do was grab her by the neck, squeeze until the energon cords burst from the pressure and watched the fluids drip down her shapely, fragile torso as he violated her processors. But really, he was not that far gone to resort to such measures.

"—But once you are with Prime again, you will be relieved, and share in a passionate night of interfacing with our great leader!" she softly exclaimed while she worked at Soundwave's leg.

Soundwave barely stifled a snort, disguising the sound as a puff of air from his vents. "Consideration: appreciated."

So he sent in the command to flick his solar wings out, unfolding the long, angular panels. They were so long that the sharp tips draped over the dais and dipped into the water. He could feel them twitching, eager to move and absorb energy but he firmly reigned the excited coding in, stilling them into place.

The femme stood after a moment and moved over so she could settle herself down by Soundwave's other leg. She gently guided Soundwave's pede up, resting it on her thigh armour and began to wash that as well, the soapy solvent covering both of them. Every now and then, she would draw a small cup into the water and rinse off the soap so it didn't leave stains or imperfections on the paint.

A moment later the small femme turned, hearing a pair of foreign pede steps. "Excuse me my lord, but no one was supposed to be allowed in here. I will find out who it is."

Soundwave who had already heard voices long before she had, just nodded and turned into the spray. "Affirmative," he said.

She stood after carefully putting the supplies into the bucket, and walked across the dais so she could get to the edge of the pool and the flooring. She disappeared into the darkness, white painted columns obscuring her image until she was out of sight. When she saw who had entered the bathing chambers, she stopped.

"Executive Officer Ironhide and First Lieutenant Chromia, you do not have permission to be in here! Please leave or state your purpose!" the femme demanded, her squeaky voice rising in pitch.

Ironhide didn't listen to her at all and just kept walking forward into the room. Chromia did stop, flashing a holochip in front of her that displayed access permission to the room. A small Matrix symbol was off to the bottom left, rotating slowly.

"Optimus felt that it would be best if I care for his mate," Chromia said, a bit irritated.

"B-But—"

Chromia shifted her weight, glaring down at the tiny femme. "I will take it from here," she said, nodding her helm towards the door. "No need to worry, your work will still be counted towards your pay. All of it."

Unable to argue, the femme nodded. She then briskly walked out, sparing one last, disappointed look in the chambers before the door slid shut behind her. Chromia scoffed and then stepped forward, following the trail of Ironhide. Ironhide was standing next to the pool, his arms crossed over his thick chassis. Chromia came up behind him, her hands on his hips while she rested her helm on his arm.

"You should take a bath too," Chromia admonished. "You're utterly filthy."

Ironhide turned his helm back, a smirk on his face. "Mech's a mech. Can't help it."

Chromia pinched at a wire in his arm, making him flinch. "Wash. You have to look nice too."

The blue femme prodded his backstrut with a sharp finger, and he grudgingly made a noise of assent. She left him then and stepped up onto the platform so she could walk closer to Soundwave.

"I'm sure you know what's going on," she said simply. "So I see no reason for us not to just get down to business."

This time, Soundwave didacknowledge her. He raised a hand to rub at his helm crest, smoothing the mixture of water and solvent across the blue finials and his telepathy spread out across both newcomers. He did not attempt to penetrate any processors however, knowing full well who they were and what they represented. _Especially _Ironhide, having shot at him at the battlefield too many times to count. Instead he just read their energy fields before retreating.

"I'm Chromia," she said to Soundwave, looking him up and down.

"Chromia. First lieutenant to Elita-1's femme squadron. I know who you are," Soundwave snapped.

"Alright then," Chromia easily agreed, air puffing out of her vents before gesturing towards the doorway. "I won't follow the torture session she was gonna put you through."

Soundwave jerked his helm away.

"We'll just get this over quick, yeah?" Chromia muttered, stooping to grab a brush and solvent, her frame completely wet from the gentle spray of the showerhead.

Chromia was forced to step beneath the showerhead's gentle spray and she stooped to grab a brush and solvent. As she straightened up, her blue optics met Ironhide's intense ones, his expression dark. She reassured him with a smile and then put some solvent on the brush so she could work it to a soapy mess with her fingers.

"Other femme: very relaxing. Her attentions: _preferred_," Soundwave complained as Chromia began to scrub Soundwave's back, his digital monotone low with discontent. He canted his helm to the side, eyeing her up from the corner of his visor. "The weapon specialist's presence: agitating me. Get him out."

Pleased that his presence was irritating the Decepticon, Ironhide's smile was wide as he relaxed against the edge of the pool, his arms cast back over the rim.

Chromia held out the holochip to Soundwave, activating the tiny screen. The purpose was handwritten with elaborate letters – obviously Optimus'. Both Ironhide and Chromia's designations had been written down, and the small Matrix spiralled in the corner. "I apologise. I would rather not be here, but Optimus Prime seemed to think it was prudent that you receive the _best _care possible."

Prime's personal style on those glyphs was recognizable and Soundwave frowned at them. Did Optimus think he was going to shirk his duties and escape? Or go on a murderous rampage of some sort? Or was it some misplaced sense of _concern_.

"Very well," the telepath acquiesced.

"I was trained in to do this for Elita a long time ago," Chromia added.

Soundwave didn't seem interested in that piece of information. He tipped his chinguard down, watching the shorter femme scrub meticulously at the front of his chassis. Now somewhat placated with her presence, he loosened his plating a little and allowed her better access between the seams. The water continued to sluice down his smooth plating, trickling and curving around the metal of his thighs. When he shifted his pedes further apart to widen, he heaved a powerful rush of air from his vents, shifting the water that had clogged up there out as a fine mist. Finally, he allowed his mask to split and slot into the sides of his helm, allowing her to see his profile, the straight nasal ridge and most importantly the scowl tugging at his lips.

Chromia gazed long at Soundwave's face, her optics lingering upon his full lips. In response, he tilted his helm to one side, gazing back.

"I bet Prime loves it when you suck his cock with those pretty lips," she complimented, using a thick, long brush to scrub over the exterior of his prominent chassis.

The forward remark had left him speechless. Then said full mouth twisted and Soundwave sneered, pulling his top lip component to expose a sharp, silvery fang. With a snort, he splashed water against his face, wetting his dermal plating. The solar wings shuddered against their moorings, the reflective surface shimmering with partial activation.

"Yes. I believe he does. It is something that he has me do nearly every session we perform together."

Chromia hummed. The entirety of his face was very broad and sharp, smoothing into nice curves that complimented him. Then she grinned suddenly.

"I bet he does...especially with this handsome face. Your optics..." she murmured, pressing close so she could see the flare of the colour through the visor. "Nice too. But how shapely are they?" she asked, a hand resting on his chassis, the brush nearly idle.

Soundwave was unused to compliments being directed towards his self. He pursed his lips slightly at her words, his solar wings jerked upwards, betraying his slight uneasiness. At such close proximity, her energy field was much more potent and he could feel the beginnings of sexual interest brimming underneath. The telepath reached up and manually pushed the visor from his face, letting her see his slanted optics with their mismatched orange colouring.

"My optics: to your liking?" he asked, staring intensely at her.

Chromia smiled, drawing away so she could finish scrubbing his chassis, moving on to an arm. "They suit you," she said simply.

Soundwave flinched. His optics dimmed as his telepathy passed over her, searching for any mockery. "Thank you," he managed, words somewhat stilted.

Chromia held Soundwave's forearm in her grasp, moving it up so she could clean at the joints and plating.

"Do you know how the procession will go, Soundwave?" she asked, shifting around to get the other side of his arm quickly before she moved on to the other.

Soundwave continued to obediently hold his arm up for her, allowing her to bend it as she pleased so she could clean it. "I have a...fair idea. I have not been given the details. Autobot trait: sheer vagueness. I understand that I am to be accessorised and painted upon."

"Yes. After I'm done scrubbing you clean I'll buff you dry to bring out the shine. Then after that I'm going to paint..." she looked at his colours, her optics flashing quickly up and down. "I'll paint you with silver details. Don't worry, they wash off with solvent. Optimus will be similarly detailed in gold. Then some scented oil and gloss for Optimus' enjoyment, don't you think?" she rattled off, hardly seeming to mind the extensive list. Soon she was finished, but scrubbed the tops of Soundwave's hands as a finishing touch.

The future Consort remained silent, listening to her intently. Then abruptly he laughed, though it was more of a loud amused gust of air from his chassis.

"I wonder if they will hold the sheets out the next morning," he murmured in English to himself, optics staring aimlessly at one of the murals. To Chromia he said, reverting to Cybertronian, "I see. However, I do not see how all that is necessary. Optimus and I have interfaced in worst conditions without the aid of _scented oils_."

"I know." With a glint in her blue optics, she looked towards him and dug quickly in a bag to find a cloth. "I'm sure Optimus will have a fun time making you messy. So look forward to that."

Despite the femme's positive manner, apprehension filled Soundwave's circuits. This was not a joyous ceremony, especially for Optimus. Particularly for Soundwave lost in a sea of Autobots.

Once she found the proper cloth, Chromia stood again, snapping her fingers a few times to turn the spray of water off. "Then you won't ever have to do another ceremony like this again. Except perhaps something similar but less...traditional if you have a sparkling."

"I see."

Yes...the eventual sparkling. Soundwave had not thought that far, could not even imagine himself carrying Optimus' progeny. He was very fertile, that much he knew. He'd felt the strength of Optimus' spark and the tainted power of the Matrix. He knew that a sparkling would not be difficult to conceive, particularly if a heat cycle occurred any time soon.

Soundwave passed his hands over his face and flapped his wings gently in the air, flicking off the excess water. He grappled with their software for a little bit before pulling them up to half-fold them, just so he could keep them out of the water.

Past the reclining, sour-faced form of Ironhide and towards the counter and benches, Soundwave spied a long line of blowers that curved out from the wall. Without a further word, Soundwave activated his anti-gravs; a piece of Decepticon technology that he refused to remove and began to steadily hover into the air. He easily carried himself over the water, bypassing the pool and the weapon specialist completely. When he landed, he turned away and sauntered up to the blowers. A quick hack into the system and Soundwave tilted his face up to welcome the hot gush of dry air that suddenly activated above him. It didn't take long for Chromia to reach him. She busied herself with opening one of the small cabinets that was lined along the wall. She searched for a few moments and pulled out more cleaning supplies, tossing her the wet rag carelessly in. She found a new one and walked back towards Soundwave, then stopped a few paces short of him, waiting for him to dry off.

She didn't have to wait long. The air dryer had chased away most of the water and the heat of his chassis had already evaporated the lingering wetness within his seams. Soundwave remotely switched the air off and turned his helm slightly to look at her. "Next procedure?"

She raised the cloth up and stepped close, her fingers sliding gently over his solar panel wings as she stepped behind him, starting to rub at his plating with quite a bit of force. The wax from the soap left a nice shine behind. "Do you know what's expected of you during the actual ceremony?" she asked.

"I have not been informed of any proceedings or of any specific protocols to follow," Soundwave replied, casting a sideways glance towards her direction.

He _was _aware that the Council were to watch him and Optimus merge. It was not something he was looking forward to.

"Well I'm sure Optimus will lead you with what to do. Your entrance with him is really the only dramatic part. You'll be close and he can just steer you around. And obviously, when the oaths are called you'll have to recite yours. But besides that, it's easy. Just a lot of optics on you. It will be broadcasted from here to all other Autobot-held planets," Chromia murmured, shifting so she could start polishing a different part of his back, almost finished.

Soundwave suddenly hissed softly and bared his sharp denta. He wrenched a wing away from Chromia, unused to the heightened sensitivity of the new appendages. They rattled, the solar panels shimmering with a few arcs of electricity crackling over the surface. It was a clear warning of _don't touch._

"Careful," he warned, one amber optic brightening as he repressed a full-body shudder.

"My apologies, sir," Chromia said, shrugging one shoulder as she quickly polished Soundwave's plating to a high shine.

The femme was not shy and had no qualms touching every piece of surface plating that the telepath had to offer. She worked quickly, standing back every few moments to admire her handiwork.

"What is your favourite scent, sir?"

Soundwave raised his chin to give the femme a long and uncaring look. "Scent: no preference. Choose what my bondmate will find most pleasing."

Chromia took a step back and pressed a contemplative digit to her lips. "I suppose he would enjoy a rich oil scent that's a bit sweet," she said while she picked out several tiny bottles and started mixing them together in a larger one. The femme dipped her finger in and then tasted it, nodding again. "It'll do."

Then she took a different bottle and poured a clear substance in, mixing it with a slender silver rod.

"This will go over your polish as temporary paint. It'll come off with a good scrub in the shower racks, so you won't look ridiculous forever."

Chromia returned to Soundwave's side, and in the bottle was a silver paint.

"Please hold still… I can't stress that enough. I _don't _want to have to do this again."

The femme dipped her delicate fingers into the mixture until her digits were dripping. She brought them to Soundwave's shoulder and started writing glyphs in High Autobot, as well as several decorative designs.

"Optimus will be wearing gold. Most of it will get smeared during the spark bonding…but it doesn't really matter."

Soundwave didn't particularly care what colour his bondmate would be wearing at the ceremony. He merely stood there, his body held still and rigid as the Autobot femme continued to paint various glyphs down the lines of his body. Each sweep of the wet paint with her fingers made his sensornet bristle.

"Obedience, longevity, fertility, equality, symbiosis and compassion," Chromia clarified, pointing out each individual glyph with a wet finger.

Soundwave wanted to say that he didn't honestly give a slag about what the glyphs said.

"Are you nervous?" she then asked, raising her blue optics up to look at him.

"No," he lied.

Chromia smirked as she leaned close to start panting his helm. It was the last thing to be done before the ceremony. Tiny silver dots decorated his cheek guard, going all the way up to the angular tip before she drew several lines, then started on the other side.

"I understand…big tough Decepticon doesn't want to admit he's afraid. I'll be honest with you…I'd rather die than do it myself," Chromia said smoothly. "To me, sharing sparks is a very private ordeal…but tradition _is _tradition I suppose…just the thought of the entirety of Cybertron seeing me share with my bondmate…it's revolting—"

"I was told that only the Council would witness the act," Soundwave snapped as he grabbed the femme by the arm, forcing her to cease her painting. "Public airwaves during actual bonding: _not _part of the deal."

Soundwave could hear the sloshing of liquid as Ironhide spurned into action, as if ready to save Chromia from his clutches. Soundwave dropped Chromia's arm as if it was on fire.

"I just assumed you _realised _this or that Optimus had told you," Chromia said with a frown. "It will be broadcasted to all the troops in the universe, Autobot of course, but I wouldn't doubt that plenty of Decepticons will watch it as well. It's not supposed to be highly sexual or anything…it's more like symbolism. The joining of two halves to make the Autobots whole again. A lot consider it a highly spiritual event. If you're lucky, you might even have a privacy screen."

The Decepticon snarled and bared his denta, obviously disliking what he'd just been told. The wings attached to his back swivelled upwards and extended half-way, unable to sit still while he quietly raged. He made a disgruntled sound via his vents and turned to the side, resigned to allow Chromia to finish her job.

"I see," he bit out.

When Chromia was finished, she stepped back and wiped her fingers off, critically going over Soundwave's appearance. She circled around him a few times, taking special care to avoid his solar panelled wings. Once she was finished, she nodded.

"It is time. The ceremony will begin shortly."

Behind the pair, Ironhide trudged out of the pool and stood under the blowers. "I've gotta go find Optimus," he muttered

Ironhide gave Soundwave a hard glare as he finished drying off. His negative energy field made one thing clear; Soundwave was to _not _touch Chromia. The mech then ambled out of the room, disappearing out of a far door.

The telepath's wings flicked in the air for a second time, as if saying a giant 'fuck you too' at Ironhide's departing back.

Silence reigned, and with each passing moment, Optimus' spark curled up into a tighter ball of nerves.

He paced back and forth in the foyer, where in front of him two doors were opened, and beyond that was a blindingly bright light where Council members and a few invited senators chatted amongst each other up high on a balcony. On the floor level there were two chairs and a large berth situated right in the middle. Tiny camera drones buzzed around Optimus.

Suddenly a door to the right opened.

Optimus stopped. A strange expression passed his maskless face and he took half of a step forward in curiosity. Soundwave stood there, but it wasn't the Soundwave he knew. Once Soundwave had stepped out completely, Optimus scanned his optics over the mech again, finding the more streamline shape to be attractive. More lights flickered on, signalling that the ceremony would soon start. Optimus' pump hammered, and his fingers shook before he gripped them tightly in his palms.

Soundwave, in the light, was absolutely stunning.

"You look…beautiful," Optimus said gruffly.

The silver detailing accentuated the telepath's dark blue and white colouring perfectly. And his red visor only added to it. Tiny camera drones buzzed around Soundwave's form, darting around in between his wings and around his pedes, others hovering right next to his face.

The red visor brightened in acknowledgement to Optimus' words and Soundwave stopped when he neared him. It seemed as if Soundwave's mouth did not know on what expression to settle on – the full lips thinned, then relaxed and then smoothed into a neutral line but not before the corners lifted up into what could have passed as a ghost of a smile.

"Prime: equally as…regal," Soundwave replied with a suitable inclination of his helm.

Then Soundwave suddenly snarled with irritation when one of the hovering cameras flitted too close to his liking. The solar-panelled wings made a sharp movement and the camera…inexplicably stopped working and dropped to the floor by their pedes.

"My apologies," Soundwave said, not sounding at all sorry that he overloaded the device and caused it to malfunction. He glanced at tall doors and his mouth tightened. "You did not tell me that we would share in a truly public domain," he quietly accused.

Prime's pump started hammering hard again and he turned around to sit on a small bench. He leaned down, his shoulders slumping, and held his face in his hands.

"I honestly had no idea. It's been so long since a Prime had a bondmate, and I never really listened to those history lessons in the academy anyway. _I _was told that it would just be the Council," Prime said miserably.

He looked very young in that instance, akin to a youngling who had been caught doing something bad.

"I'm sorry," Optimus groaned. "This is _so _stupid. Fuck _tradition_, if it were up to me, none of this would be happening."

"No," Soundwave said. "We must adhere to tradition."

'_To keep the Council happy,_' he added via telepathy.

The doors parted then, wedged apart by giant mechanisms that rotated at the side like giant cogs. And what lay beyond, their new lives.

"Come," Soundwave commanded, though he betrayed the air of steadiness he gave by allowing his energy field to spike with uneasiness.

Prime was completely still, his face blank while his optics were bright – too bright. He clenched his digits against the seat below him, and an involuntary noise escaped from his vocaliser.

"I… I can't do this," he whispered.

"But you must!" Soundwave hissed as he turned to face the Prime fully. "Prime: strong, composed, steadfast. A true leader. This is the image you must give them or else they _will_take advantage of your weakness." Then he lowered his helm and his tone dropped the harsh edge. "You will not face this alone. I, your servant, will share your humiliation," he added. "Debauchery: experienced by us both. Resulting _circus: _masses happy. Do you understand, Optimus Prime?"

Prime clenched his denta together hard and stared resolutely at the floor. "I understand but—"

He looked away and was silent for a few moments. Camera drones started to collect around him in increasing interest, and Optimus looked up before allowing a cold flow of air into his intakes.

"Do you love me?"

Soundwave was taken aback by the question. "I cannot answer that. Love: unfamiliar. Unknown protocol in my banks."

Optimus laughed. "Do you like me?"

The staid presence that Soundwave had fabricated around him just to get himself through his farce of a ceremony began to waver. His processor raced to find answers to questions he had never dealt with before. With no face mask to hide his expression, his mouth began to form various expressions of uncertainty.

"Like: to express a favourable opinion or emotion towards an object or person," Soundwave intoned finally. "What I feel for you, Optimus Prime, is far more complicated than 'like'."

Optimus' entire frame seemed to shake for a moment as he looked down at the floor, then stood up. He strode to Soundwave's side in measured, confident steps.

"We will go out into the middle of the oval and bow to the council. Then I will turn, and we will take our seats."

The telepath did not answer straight away. Instead, he stared down at their conjoined arms as the limbs didn't belong to either of them. The gesture suggested affection and it did not translate at all well to the current state of their relationship.

"I understand," Soundwave agreed. "Come. They are impatient."

Neither Soundwave nor Optimus knew who was leading who as they both crossed the threshold, and after the massive doors closed shut behind them, the couple traversed the great chamber and followed the pattern edged out on the floor that led straight to the chairs.

If, of course, the two elaborate thrones could be referred to as chairs.

Soundwave kept his gaze fixed ahead of him, and held his chin up proudly. He refused to gawp at the socially-powerful mechs that had gathered around just to watch them bond as if the entire affair was an exclusive private pornographic viewing. Had he lost his composure, he knew that he would not stop himself from projecting the hate he felt for each and every one of them and the death wish he held for them.

Together they bowed, both stiffly, and Prime turned with Soundwave circling around him. They approached the dais and Optimus climbed the two stairs with Soundwave before ushering his bondmate to sit. Then Prime took his own seat in the much larger chair, his hands automatically going to the armrests. While in the spotlight, all nervousness and apprehension had left Optimus. He was in the moment, and his optics were trained on Alpha Trion as the old mech stood up from his chair in the centre. Dead silence permeated the room, and Prime was afraid to draw a large breath.

"It gives me great honour to witness the bonding of two mates," Alpha Trion spoke, his voice echoing over the atrium. "I witnessed the first bonding, the bonding of Prima, and now in this time of war, I am to witness another."

Optimus inclined his head in acknowledgment. "We are honoured to have you, Alpha Trion, the wisest and oldest of all the Autobots," he replied.

The Prime's optics flickered ever so slightly as Soundwave's presence filtered through the stream of his consciousness to find the appropriate answer. When he did, Soundwave spoke. "We present ourselves, our bodies and spark for you bear witness to our union to the optics of Primus."

And then Soundwave shut up, sitting rigidly in his chair waiting to for the next part to happen. The camera drones began congregating around the couple again, the iris of their lens expanding and contracting with each minute movement. Soundwave twitched faintly and another camera dropped to the ground. Three more took its place, as if never affected.

A slight flicker of disapproval filtered through the bond. Optimus glanced over sharply at his mate. Soundwave ignored him.

Optimus Prime then glanced back up to Alpha Trion and the Council members that observed the proceedings coolly. Prowl was sitting next to Alpha Trion, tilted back in his chair with his arms crossed over his chassis. Obviously, he wasn't pleased. Gingerly, Optimus grabbed Soundwave's hand and stood up. Off to the side was a plain, but large berth. It had no covering, no thermal blankets, nothing on it. The surface looked cold and foreboding.

"Come," Optimus said quietly. "You're to sit on the berth, swing your legs over and lay down."

With the way Soundwave moved towards the berth, he might as well been a simple drone obeying a command. He had said nothing, nor made any expression on his face that indicated joy or sadness. Merely his mouth remained tight, his lips twisted and pressed together in a thin line. With a resentful look towards his bondmate, the telepath laid down primly on his back, staring upwards into the chamber's high ceiling that never seemed to end. It was as if he was waiting for his own surgery to commence.

With a look at his bondmate's prone form, Optimus carefully slid onto the berth, crawling on top of him. As he did so, privacy shields shot up. The moment that happened, the tension bled out from Soundwave's frame…barely. Their forms would still be visible, but only as shadows.

Optimus sat up, straddling Soundwave's waist.

"I know you don't want to do this, but the quicker we do, the sooner it will be over and we can forget this ever happened."

"I despise being a spectacle," Soundwave murmured, quietly so the others wouldn't hear.

"Our entire relationship will be a spectacle forevermore," Optimus replied. "We'll be followed with _rapt _interest. The Autobot bonding with the _double-agent _Decepticon. They won't stop. Not ever."

Optimus leaned down, pushing himself through the actions. He leaned down and kissed Soundwave's lips before transferring his attention to his bondmate's neck.

"Just…pretend we're somewhere else."

Soundwave's mouth twitched slightly, with amusement. "Optimus Prime's fantasy: location and choice of companion?"

Optimus ignored the remark, despite a hot wave of anger curling through his spark. He busied himself with touching Soundwave's chestplates with his hands, rubbing at the seams and smearing the paint while his glossa followed. Soundwave tried to send an override code to his chestplates, to force them to open despite his spark's wishes and yet his body disobeyed him. It did not care for etiquette, tradition or decorum. It simply wished to hide from the thousands of viewfinders trained open them. When Soundwave sent the code for a third time, his chestplates did end up cracking open…but only barely.

Finally, Soundwave lifted his hand from where he had it flat on the berth, wedging his fingers into the gaps to pry them further open, enough for the locking mechanism to disengage.

Optimus made a relieved noise. "Was that so hard, you callous glitch?" he muttered, digging his fingers in between the two detached pieces, tugging on them fiercely until they were forced to open farther to reveal a small intimate glimpse of Soundwave's lasercore.

There was a flash of colour in Soundwave's visor and he grabbed Optimus' collar ridge so he could tug him down. The world outside could only surmise that they were kissing but in reality, Soundwave was whispering heatedly against the Autobot's mouth.

"I do not _reveal_. I do not _expose. _I value my privacy. And yet, _here _I am publicly _sparkbonding _in front of my greatest enemies. My apologies for my lack of enthusiasm."

Optimus' blue optics glittered. "Another thing to take away from you then, if you decide to displease me. I thought you Decepticons liked public sex. My idea of fucking you like a bitch in front of the entire high command: not acceptable?" Optimus hissed back, mimicking his mate's speech.

The Decepticon wordlessly snarled at him. His top lip curled back from over his denta, razor-sharp with the large fangs gleamed dangerously underneath the light. The message was chestplates swivelled back to their full position and his lasercore rose up, practically pushing itself outwards. Then Soundwave did manage to find his voice.

"_My _pretend fantasy: off-planet. Fantasy partner: _not _you."

"You slay me, my precious bondmate," Optimus murmured, hunching down so that he could touch the exposed components. His glossa slid over Soundwave's hot lasercore. He kissed at it, drawing a hand up to stimulate the shell with the tips of his large fingers. "But as much as you don't want it, don't want to admit it, you'll never be able to leave me again unless one of us is dead. Thank the Matrix for that."

And predictably, Soundwave reacted, as he always did to Prime's taunts and touches. The plating covering his spark quivered when the other mech's hot glossa slid wetly down its slightly uneven surface and he arched his back just slightly, too proud to show how affected he was by the mere touch of his bondmate against his most intimate parts.

"Is the sentiment not likewise?" Soundwave asked.

Prime tilted his face up so his optics met Soundwave's visor. He paused for a moment, as if seriously considering the answer.

"I'll be honest. I have no intentions of dissolving the bond by whatever means – either that being time and distance, a bond with another, or your death or even after the birth of our future son. That is, as long as you prove useful to me. If you are a constant hindrance and a pain in my aft, you'll disappear."

Soundwave stared up at the handsome features of his mate until the red light of his visor rolled back as his helm lolled to the side. Puffs of filtered air escaped his vents and his vocaliser made muted chirps. It was almost as if he was laughing.

"The masses await, my Prime," Soundwave informed him. "Part your chestplates, expose your innermost secrets against my core and let the outsiders gorge on our image."

It was ironic that Optimus had significantly more trouble getting his own chestplates to open. He roughly rubbed at the seam that went between his glass windshield, pressing so hard that the glass cracked under his rough ministrations. He then drew his fingers down to the slatted bars of his grill, touching the soft components underneath in an effort to draw out his sensor net. Before Prime was near ready to rip his altmode's wipers off from sheer frustration, Soundwave's clawed hand stopped him.

"Relax," Soundwave told him calmly. "Allow me. Brace yourself."

The telepath shifted his position from underneath the larger mech, bringing his knee up so he could rub the inside of his leg against the tyres that ran along Prime's shin. His long fingers gently traced the seams where Prime had abused earlier, soothing the abrasions and it was only after he started that his telepathy registered inside the other mech's cortex. It flowed through his body like water, leaving behind a tingling sensation before it pooled around the area surrounding his spark. The Matrix did rouse, suspicious at the foreign power but once it identified it as non-threatening, it settled down again.

Alarm flowed through Optimus, but with it, so did the foreign sensation. He couldn't explain it, being touched so intimately with no apparent effort on Soundwave's behalf. A breathy moan escaped from his mouth before he could stop it.

"I…did not know you could do that," Optimus said tightly, clenching his denta together.

The telepath trailed the sharp tip of his talon lightly up the main seam where his chestplates would part. "I can do many…many, wonderful things with my power." And said power morphed into ghostly fingers that magically strummed the numerous wires surrounding Prime's spark like a well-oiled instrument. "Dare you find out?"

"See? This is what I mean about you being useful," Prime replied with a smarmy smirk. "But…please dear, wait until after the wedding to kill me."

Optimus opened his chestplates, parting them from what seemed to be too long of being closed. The Matrix twinkled before it slid up into the cavity over Optimus' lasercore, innocently giving permission. Then Prime's lasercore was pushed forward, the slightly blue tinted shell spiralling once before it shifted open to Optimus' bare spark. The sight to Soundwave was both frightening and exhilarating at once. He grabbed the broad shoulders and abruptly yanked down. Prime's arms buckled and their open chests crashed against each other with a jolt.

"I will not kill you. You have not outlived your usefulness to me, my Prime," Soundwave whispered against his mate's helm.

Still despite the confident words, Soundwave's spark remained shy inside its casing, refusing to reach out for its other half. The call was strong, despite their humiliating setting but it continued to stick against the back of Soundwave's lasercore.

"_Open,_" Optimus hissed into Soundwave's audio. "Let's get this over with!"

Prime couldn't take the proximity of his mate's spark as easily – his own was jumping forward, pulsing in strong waves in an effort to entice its other half to come out to play. Optimus gasped against Soundwave's neck, kissing the tubing until he shifted up and rubbed his lips over the telepath's, sliding his glossa over them, wordlessly encouraging his bondmate to participate. Soundwave did manage to give in and his lips parting just a little was all Prime needed to push his glossa past them. The effect was electrifying and intimate for the both of them. Soundwave's mouth was almost scorching hot and wet with his oral oils. He panted up into Optimus' mouth, unable to stop his own glossa from slithering across Optimus's.

Soundwave dragged his claws down the plating of Optimus' back and he seemed so overwhelmed from their kiss that the coverings for his lasercore eventually did retract.

As with their previous bonding sessions, the result was instantaneous. The two halves leapt out at each other and with a flash of light, pressed their intimate beings together. Optimus' hand found purchase on a solar panelled wing and not recognizing the texture, he dug the tips of his fingers hard onto the smooth surface. He panted as a flurry of memories, thoughts and emotions assaulted him in such a wide array that he was left shocked.

Soundwave's thighs fell open, and his knees drew up, unable to wrap around Prime's waist due to the way he was currently straddling Soundwave's hips. So Soundwave's pedes thumped on the berth and he was oblivious to the scuffed marks that were left on his wing. His visor blazed bright, bright red and he did vocalise a moan this time. It was muffled, swallowed by Prime's mouth.

"Are you still lost in your fantasy with your fantasy lover, Optimus?" Soundwave demanded, tearing his mouth away. Trickles of oral fluid ran down his chin.

"You even have to be a bitch when I'm on the edge of overload too," Optimus grunted, instinctively drawing his chest up slightly only to slam it back down on Soundwave's. "I don't have fantasy lovers. If I want to fuck someone, I fuck them. Is _that _a fantasy to you?"

Heat poured out from Soundwave's vents, the paint already smeared all over the front of his chassis and helm. He placed his pedes and palms flat on the berth so he could push himself up against Prime.

"Soundwave: not a fantasy?" Soundwave purred, though the sound was riddled with static from the intensity of their bonding. "I am disappointed."

"Of course you're a fucking fantasy. If you weren't, I wouldn't have bothered touching you in the first place," Optimus snapped, finally allowing his spark to let his body overload. He scraped his chassis harshly against Soundwave's, grinding their sparks together. "My…greatest fantasy," Optimus managed to say through the thunderous roar of his engine and the sudden burst of air through his vents.

It was enough to send Soundwave into overload. The golden energy of his spark pushed outwards, straight into Prime's own lasercore and Soundwave's body frozen. Only his wings moved, the long appendages thumping down in his pleasure.

For the entire affair, the ending was anticlimactic. All the preparations, planning, dignitaries from off-world planets, the media – really the whole spectacle.

Optimus sat up, his chassis closing – spark safely tucked away.

"You are now…the official Royal Consort."

The mech below him continued to stare up. All the painstaking detail Chromia had painted earlier was ruined, smudged along his chassis and the energy of his spark continued to churn inside its casing. There was a roar of celebration outside their privacy shields and Soundwave's lips moved. The din had drowned out his quiet words but the resulting triumph present in his face was unmistakable.

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	14. Chapter 14

Another chapter done! I hope you like it and remember to leave a review!

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Chapter fourteen

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When the ceremony was over, Soundwave and Optimus Prime were escorted to the royal palace's chambers. There they were left alone, to be with each other. But now the silence reigned heavily around them.

The paint that had adorned Prime's body was smeared and he was still running hot from the bonding session. He took out a rag from his subspace and wiped the gold paint off.

"At least I won't ever have to do that again," Prime said lightly.

Soundwave couldn't respond.

Prime grabbed Soundwave's hand and pulled him further into the rooms. They were giant and immaculate, filled with precious objects and impossible wealth.

"I hate ceremonies and presentations. I always feel like an idiot at them," Prime muttered darkly.

He then let go of Soundwave's hand and passed into a smaller room – the washracks. Optimus stepped under the stream and began to scrub the smears of paint from his frame until they were gone.

The Autobot turned back to Soundwave standing in the doorway.

"You do know the rights afforded to you with this position, right? For now, they have been suspended, by me. They will be reinstated with time."

"Affirmative," Soundwave said.

The telepath looked out of place, where he stood. With the newness of his altmode and the unfamiliarity of the heavy weight fixed onto his back, his posture also looked somewhat off-balanced. Paint was smudged across his own chassis; the meticulous silver detailing that the femme had drawn onto him ruined and mixed with gold streaks from Prime's own paint.

"Where are my quarters? I wish to retire for the rest of the cycle." A pause. "With your permission."

Prime smirked. "You will retire with me. I have use for you."

The Autobot stepped out of the shower racks and shook, sending drops of solvent everywhere. He approached his newly instated consort until he had the younger mech pressed up against a wall. Prime reached up and tweaked the edge of a solar paneled wing. "I haven't been able to play with this new body of yours. You must be curious to see how it works…"

The solar wing jerked at the touch, its reflective panel activating immediately to give out an electrical discharge with a noticeable _crack. _Optimus snatched his fingers away from the shock.

"My apologies." Soundwave sounded flustered, even through the synthesizer. "Involuntary reaction. Current calibration of newly installed appendage: 76%. Defence component: not tested."

The solvent mixed in with the dried paint, liquefying it into a smudged mess around both their chestplates. Soundwave demurely dimmed the brightness of his visor and turned his helm away, feigning submissiveness. Hidden behind his hips and pressed against the wall, his hands clenched with discomfort.

"What position would my Prime prefer to see me in?"

Optimus reached up and pinched the wing again just so he could feel the flustered energy leak from Soundwave…despite the painful zap. "It's no problem. It's actually rather interesting."

Prime pushed Soundwave out and walked around him, his hand tracing over all of the new curves. The large mech's palm traced over Soundwave's panel, along his curved backstruts and back up to the telepath's helm.

"I must say this streamlined body of yours is much more attractive. Not as blocky," Prime praised. "Though I would have preferred the bulk be left on your chassis. I liked it there. I'll have to put in a modification request so it's the same as before. These wings," Prime touched them again. "Suitable for you. Colour…blue needs to be slightly lighter…more like your old color. White accenting…looks very good."

Already Soundwave's fans began to spin faster at the attention he was receiving. "Thank you, my Lord."

Prime leaned against Soundwave's front and rubbed suggestively at the area right above his gestation chamber. "You will make a fine looking carrier for my offspring."

This time, both of Soundwave's wings crackled with electricity and the segmented pieces swiveled sideways and back, loudly scraping against the wall behind him. The plating protecting his gestation chamber trembled beneath Prime's touch.

Though Prime said had increased Soundwave's apprehension tenfold; he knew that it was inevitable and he knew that it would strengthen his position underneath Prime but to produce a _sparkling _for him…the notion was overwhelming and uncomfortable. Soundwave had never felt such rage at the insinuation of being regarded as a _brood mare _and yet simultaneously, his once dormant breeding protocols had flared online to obnoxiously _preen _at the compliment.

"It is a great honour," Soundwave managed to simper before deliberately adding, "however; it is unlikely that you will be successful in sparking me this cycle." He paused, searching Prime's expression for the disappointment he was sure to enjoy seeing and then continued to explain. "Connecting valve between gestation chamber and lasercore: removed. Connection points: intentionally damaged. Necessary precaution. Surgery needed for part replacement."

Prime fell silent and he stepped away from Soundwave. "I see. While I wasn't specifically referring to tonight…or even anytime soon. I don't have the energy to get you pregnant, unfortunately," Optimus said softly. "However I can see what angle you're trying to get across to me."

Prime started to walk off.

"Thank you for not acting out or do some other unsavoury act during the ceremony. I owe you gratitude for that at least," Prime said, pointing his hand to the right. "_My_ rooms are up here. Have a pleasant recharge."

Soundwave's lip curled behind his mask. He should have felt relief. He was offended instead. "You have no use for me now?"

Prime paused and turned to snarl. "I always have use for you in my berth. However, seeing your response, I thought that I'd be charitable and let you spend the night relaxing and coming to terms with recent events."

"We have already consummated our union. Numerous times," Soundwave said. "You do not need to perform if you currently lack the energy."

The telepath's vents hissed out air and he ran the pad of his index finger over his chestplate, leaving a streak of sticky paint. He inspected his finger before rubbing it off looking thoroughly apathetic.

"Thank you," Soundwave said. "Excuse me. I must wash."

With his solar panels still twitching, Soundwave silently padded over to the washracks.

Optimus chose to ignore the jab, and instead pointed a finger to the right. "Your rooms are there. Someone will be there in the morning with energon."

Then the Autobot walked off and disappeared into the shadows. Soundwave half-turned from underneath the strong shower spray, staring at the open doorway.

"And not enough energy to discipline your bitch, I see," Soundwave muttered to himself.

* * *

Optimus Prime was sprawled across his throne chair in his private rooms while an almost empty fluted glass of sim energon was held in his hand. It soon slipped from his grasp and joined the other smashed glasses on the floor. As soon as a drone would come to clean it up, Prime hissed and shooed it away.

The Autobot stood and made a remorseful, lonely sound deep in his vocaliser. Another statue fell to the floor, shattered with all the others around the room. He paced unsteadily around the room, sometimes wandering out onto the veranda to stare at the vastness of space. The stars glittered back down at him and Prime angrily paced back inside.

"Call for Ultra Magnus," he finally snapped at the palace's AI.

It acquiesced with a cool, "Yes sir."

"Tell him to bring some…some candied energon. I don't know."

"Yes sir, right away."

Still angry, Optimus poured himself another drink and padded back over to his throne to sit heavily upon it. The astroseconds slowly slipped by until half of a cycle passed. Just when the Autobot was beginning to grow angry again, he heard the achingly familiar pedesteps of his estranged lover approaching.

The door to his chamber opened and Prime nearly lurched up out of his chair with the need to beg Ultra Magnus for forgiveness. He made a high, thin noise and beckoned Ultra Magnus in further.

"Please…Magnus," he said softly. "Give me company. _Please._"

Ultra Magnus smacked the tray he was holding down onto the table with a resounding _clang_. Bitterness was edged onto every feature of his faceplates and his mouth was pressed into a sour line.

"Tell your _bondmate _to give you company, Orion. I'm just a commander in your army. Nothing more, nothing less."

"You're much more than that!"

A pause and Optimus slumped over.

"He isn't here," Optimus said lowly. "He didn't want to be with me. I understand that. I don't want to be with him either. Just… won't you even agree to talk to me? I've been trying to get you in the same room with me since I got here."

"Has It ever occurred to you that I don't want to be with you either? _Particularly _on the ceremony of your bonding?"

The look Optimus gave him spoke of such misery that Magnus exhaled noisily and folded his arms across his chest, looking at everything but the other mech.

"_Fine._"

Optimus unsteadily stood up from his throne again and walked over to his ex-lover. He stopped a short distance away from Ultra Magnus and stared dejectedly at the floor.

"I know nothing I could say would make a difference in how you feel about me right now. But please…hear me. I'm sorry…_please," _Optimus pleaded. He slid down onto the floor until he was holding onto Magnus' legs. "It was all a _mistake. _I… I never meant…!"

Ultra Magnus stepped back with an exasperated sound. "Stop it. You're being pathetic," he snapped.

He walked around Optimus, past the broken pieces of glass and settled himself heavily onto one of the chairs in the room.

"Mistake or no mistake, what's done is done," Magnus said flatly, staring at his once-lover with a gaze void of any warmth. "There is no us anymore. There will never _be _an us. I hope you realize this because from now on, I refuse to waste the rest of my existence pining after you, waiting like I have done for all these eons. And for what? This _betrayal _of yours? No, I am better than that. Better than what you _think _you can give me."

Optimus sat dejectedly on the floor, staring off at a side column. He nodded with each of Magnus' words in complete agreement until he breathed in a deep sigh.

"I understand," Optimus finally said, looking away. "It's your right to pursue someone better than me. Someone who can give you the attention you deserve. It's what I did, right? I was bored and lonely on Earth so I found someone who would be able to satisfy me."

The Autobot stood up and returned to his throne. He could not see Magnus from where he was sitting, with his limbs untidily spread out.

"I'm really sorry you know. Even if you don't believe me…I do love you, Dion."

"Love doesn't matter. Not anymore," Magnus tiredly replied. "I suspect you'll learn to love…that Decepticon eventually. And even if you don't, it still doesn't matter. I expect that you'll find yourself offlined in your own berth with a blade in your spark and it'll be exactly what you deserve."

The glass Optimus had in his hands crunched together in his fist after Magnus finished speaking and he breathed out a deep, strained noise. The broken pieces fell onto the floor again.

"I don't know what I can do to prove I love you. That what I did was a mistake. Rip my spark out? I mean, he's _my _bondmate now. And I… I_ care _for Soundwave. I don't love him. But he's… a part of me now too whether he likes it or not."

Ultra Magnus didn't answer immediately. He sat with his knees apart and his helm bowed down and silence slowly trickled by until he finally spoke.

"I want us to heal, Optimus. I really do. But don't ask me to forgive you right now…not when I'm sitting here, on the night of your bonding, knowing that you willingly threw us away. Give me a little time, please."

Prime hung his head. "Yes I understand. It's your decision in the end, Dion. I'll abide by whatever you set down. Even if that means you want a transfer… just tell me and I'll make it happen."

He stood and paced over towards his private veranda again, then turned swiftly back around and returned to Magnus.

"You know me Dion," Optimus said desperately, grabbing the seated mech's hands to hold them in his own. "Look, look what's happening to me. I was never like this before. I wasn't ever so cold and callous and… treacherous."

The Autobot leader bent down on his knees and split his chest, revealing the Matrix. The glint of the jewel was dim and the internal wiring was wrapped around the handles, making it apparent that it could not be removed.

"This thing is eating me alive. It's—"

Optimus stopped and straightened up, closing his chassis. Across the dark flooring and to the balcony he could see a reflective surface of a solar paneled wing.

"It's what…?" Magnus prompted.

"Soundwave…" Optimus said softly.

Ultra Magnus' already present frown deepened when Prime looked down at him with a cool expression on his face.

"I must see why my bondmate feels the need to spy on me. This discussion will have to be held another time. Good evening Magnus," Optimus said.

The other Autobot didn't bother protesting. "Whatever," he muttered.

At this point, Optimus nodded and walked out of the room to step onto the balcony. He didn't immediately see anything, but as he rounded the huge balcony he could see the telepath hovering in a corner.

"You do not need to spy on me," Optimus remarked, folding his arms across his chest. "While I may have revoked your rights to order troops, you still have the powers of the Royal Consort. You can force anyone to leave a room… but myself."

Soundwave said nothing at first, but it was evident from the dark red of his visor that he was incensed at being caught so soon. The angled edges of both his wings twitched with annoyance before he hitched them up higher and closer to his back.

"Forcing others from the room would serve me no purpose," Soundwave said tonelessly, and then bowed deeply. "My deepest apologies, my lord. It was not my intention for you to catch me."

"Obviously," Optimus replied. The mech then leaned heavily against the wall and rubbed at his face before looking up, one bright blue optic glinting from between his fingers. "Join me in my chambers, since you're so curious.

Optimus straightened and padded unsteadily back inside. Magnus had already gone, as Prime had expected. The Autobot collapsed heavily onto his throne and motioned to the telepath with one finger.

"Come here."

Soundwave stood at the entrance of the balcony and glanced at the mess Optimus had left on the floor with the broken glasses. He stepped reluctantly inside and strolled unhurriedly towards his seated bondmate before stopping in front of him. Surrounded by all the opulence the room had to offer with its detailed and rich decoration and expensive materials, Soundwave stood like a masked, ominous presence that was all sharp angles and sharp talons. He stuck out like a sore servo.

"You are overcharged," Soundwave stated, unimpressed.

"As I have the right to be," Prime replied, equally unimpressed. The Autobot leaned back in his chair, his blue optics darkening further. He idly tapped a digit on the arm of his throne while he stared at the mech's body.

"Turn around," Optimus ordered with a thick voice. "Why are you spying on me?"

Soundwave unenthusiastically turned around, presenting Prime with his back. The bulk of his folded wings were located high above his waist, close to his shoulders. The lower panels sat neatly against their pivots, the blade-like tips pointing inwards towards each other.

"Spy," Soundwave began, "definition: to observe secretly and collect information for later use."

"You _are _being quite smart with me," Prime observed as he admired the telepath's backside. "But unfortunately for you, my sly bondmate, you are in fact, my bondmate. Irrevocably. And unless you have a death wish and want to off me already... as you well know our fates are quite tightly tied. I know you're not the self-sacrificing suicidal type either, so don't play me for a complete fool."

"I have no wish to offline," Soundwave replied sullenly, tilting his helm back so he could gaze back at Prime from the corner of his visor. "Is there any other angle you would like to look at me from?"

Optimus smirked. "Bend over and smack your aft the way I like it."

Soundwave whirled around so fast that his joints creaked. "Suggestion: retry."

Optimus slammed his energy field harshly into Soundwave like a physical force. When the mech flinched, Optimus bared his denta and snapped them aggressively.

"I said _bend over_ and _smack _your aft."

One of Soundwave's wings swiveled out in protest, electricity crackling over it. The Decepticon made an angry staticky hiss through his vocalizer and turned around again. He slid his pedes apart and bent over. The cables between his pelvic joints pulled, visible to the other mech he was displaying himself to. With one hand gripping his ankle struts, Soundwave twisted his other arm behind his back so he could smack his own aft hard with the palm of his hand.

Optimus grinned with satisfaction at the loud metallic sound that rang out. He leaned forward and traced the edges of the lower half of Soundwave's codpiece before sitting back in his chair.

"You look sexy. Especially," here Prime leaned up again and traced the arch of Soundwave's hips, "the _curves._"

After a moment, Prime finally composed himself.

"Turn back around. Sit on my lap," Prime instructed, pointing to himself.

Soundwave smoothly straightened himself and turned back to face Optimus. With the mask and visor on, it was impossible to tell what facial expression he was currently making. It was doubtful that it was complimentary…if the slight sizzle on the edge of his energy field was any indication. He settled himself onto Optimus' lap, his off-white thighs astride over the Autobot's legs. When Optimus jostled his knee, Soundwave was forced to grab the throne to keep his balance.

"I am not an interfacing toy," Soundwave said haughtily, staring down at Optimus with his arms stretched over his helm.

Prime snickered. He reached around and cupped Soundwave's aft, fully feeling the plating while he dipped his fingers into the exposed wiring between Soundwave's leg and pelvic unit. It was warm and Soundwave gave off a small measure of increased heat.

"I know you aren't. I never said you were. Still doesn't mean I don't want to look at you," Prime replied, running his hand up along Soundwave's thick chassis.

"We're in this together, you know. Have you paused to realize what that means? Outside of whatever schemes you've cooked up in your processor."

Soundwave haughtily turned to look to the other side, prompting Optimus to chuckle.

"Take your visor and mask off."

When Optimus passed his hand possessively over Soundwave's gestation tank, Soundwave reacted by grabbing the other mech's hand to stop him. It was intimate, almost intrusive and Soundwave squeezed the larger servos in his palm as if he was going to yank it away.

The coverings slid back and the face that stared back at Prime was young, with an agitated expression on it. Soundwave's optics were dim, their edges appearing more tapered than usual. Above the triangular chinguard, Soundwave was pressing his lips together tightly.

"I refuse to be the trophy bitch, Prime," Soundwave finally said, his real voice quiet. "I hope _you _realize that."

Prime pursed his lips petulantly as he stared at Soundwave's exposed lips for a long second. "Why not? You don't want to be my favourite?" He moved his hands up, lightly settling them on the telepath's hips. "What _do _you want?"

The full lips Optimus was staring at parted as their owner nervously licked them, taken back by the question. They opened, readying to speak. "I want—" before snapping shut again. Soundwave's optics flickered and he averted his gaze, refusing to look at Prime. "Insufficient data. Opinion: currently inconclusive," he finally replied, now looking more sulky than anything.

Optimus sighed and leaned away. "You know I don't like it when you talk like that," he muttered. "If you don't have an opinion, then why do you act as you do? Unless you're unwilling to say it."

Again, Soundwave refused to speak. Deciding on a different tactic, Optimus rubbed his hands along Soundwave's finely shaped thighs.

"This body suits you, you know," Optimus said. "Even if you don't like it, I enjoy it. It's much curvier. Though I wonder how troublesome those solar panels will be… I feel myself getting smacked in the face from them often."

"Previous alt-mode: easier to fool humans," Soundwave said distractedly. "Would now be obsolete. Current alt-mode: much more practical. Solar appendages….still calibrating. Optimus Prime getting smacked in the face with them: very likely."

As if to emphasise a point, the wings made a distinct electrical crackle. Soundwave actually looked annoyed at that and he even glanced over his shoulder, like he was going to scold a separate entity. Soundwave then returned his attention back to Prime and stared down at the hands that were still stroking his thighs. Optimus' thumbs press against the seams of Soundwave's armour and he felt the tingle as they rubbed upwards. When they rubbed down again, Soundwave exhaled heavily; his own plating already betraying him by heating up from the attention.

Optimus smiled and he shifted his hips forward so he could stretch. His blue optics flickered impishly.

"Won't you dance for me? I know you can," Prime idly said as he continued to rub the tips of his fingers against Soundwave's hips. "Or if you would prefer not to… tell me a story. Or ask me a question."

Soundwave's orange optics brightened a little at the request. "I have not danced in a very long time. Before the War. Dance routines known: local Polyhexian pleasure dance. Are you sure?"

Prime shifted again underneath Soundwave and his optics were visibly brighter. "Well. Long as this Polyhexian dance doesn't involve ripping off appendages I think I'd like it," he replied, reaching around to smack Soundwave's aft with both of his palms.

"No. You would not appreciate _that _sort of dance. Pity. I was once very good at it," Soundwave replied.

"You're playing coy right now but I know you want it just as much as I. Or you're jealous and trying to play a game," Optimus observed.

With that, Soundwave neatly slid off the larger mech's lap and sauntered around the room. He idly took an energon candy from the tray that Ultra Magnus dropped in earlier. Just applying a little bit of pressure had the sweet's thin shell crack and ooze energon syrup all over his fingertips.

So he stood there for a long moment until he slowly, slowly began to move. It was small movements at first as he familiarised himself with going through the motions of the dance. Soundwave rolled his shoulders while his wings swiveled out and laxly hung from their joints. They swung along with him, to and fro as he began to gain confidence in his dance.

"We, the dancers…would stand on raised platforms," Soundwave intoned, raising his arms above his head while he swayed back and forth erratically, steps seemingly lacking any coordination or rhythm. "Attire: barest pieces of armour. Interface arrays: bare. Patrons: below us watching."

But the more he moved, the more it was evident that there was some sort of pattern to the way he sidestepped and stamped his pedes down. He swiped a couple of the candies off the tray and retracted his interface panel so that he could ease the small round sweets past the small hole of his valve. They disappeared up inside him with little coaxing.

"Faster, faster…heating up," Soundwave explained with disjointed sentences, twirling lithely around the room with his arms bent in front of his chassis, hands held straight outwards.

When he arched his back, thrusting his chest out in invitation, his words began to make sense. The energon sweets stuffed up inside his tight valve had already broken with the tinniest flexing of his inner walls. The heat of his valve quickly thinned out the viscous filling of the sweets until it began to bead around his folds, some even splattering down onto his pale thighs.

Optimus watched, completely hypnotized. His hand drifted down between his legs and he spread his legs to rub openly at his panel. "You look good… very good. And those _wings." _His optics flicked down to Soundwave's leaking valve and he groaned deeply. He slumped back further in his throne chair and purred out, "Come here. I haven't licked your valve yet, have I? When's the last time my bondmate had his valve eaten out?"

Soundwave actually faltered at his dance and Optimus stood up, wandering over to the berth so he could sit on the edge. The big mech scooted back, lounging among the luxurious pillows like a powerful god.

"Come," Optimus beckoned invitingly. "Join me."

It was as if he was being lured. Soundwave danced closer and closer until he reached the edge of the berth, where Prime was. His hips undulated, movements smooth and seamless like liquid and though there was no music playing through the room's speakers; clearly it was unneeded. Soundwave stared unfalteringly at the other mech, bestowing upon him his full attention, the corner of his mouth quirked upwards just slightly.

There were faint magenta streaks decorating down his inner thighs, glistening wetly in the light. He was running so hot that even the sweets' brittle casing had melted, clinging to the edges of his valve rim and folds.

"The most generous patron would have the honour of extracting the last treat. Filling: potent. Usually laced with a narcotic," Soundwave continued to explain.

As he did so, Soundwave revealed another candy he had hidden in his hands. With two fingers, he spread the opening of his valve, pushing back the folds so he could stuff the last treat inside himself. His rim quivered helplessly as he traced it with finger, invitingly.

Optimus reached forward and grabbed Soundwave bodily. Optimus pushed Soundwave down before surging over him. He kissed Soundwave's lips briefly, laying a trail of rushed kisses all the way down his chassis until he reached the telepath's interface.

He drew Soundwave's legs up over his shoulders as he leaned down to spread the thighs open wide. With a wiggle of his glossa, Optimus proceeded to lick the rim of Soundwave's valve, lapping up all the sweet tasty energon that had leaked out. Optimus then stuck his glossa inside and his optics flickered as the last treat burst on his glossa, spilling across his lips to run down his chin.

"Tasty, hot little fuck, aren't you?" Optimus praised.

"Shut up," Soundwave growled weakly, though he whined when Optimus pressed his glossa back inside his valve to carefully work at more of the candies inside.

Soundwave could feel the tip of that glossa pressing against one of his main anterior nodes; the tiny bump hard against it and each time his bondmate massaged it, Soundwave would tense with pleasure. Then Soundwave's vents began to hitch, drawing in air sharply to cool his body. He was enjoying the attention and his thighs trembled faintly with pleasure.

"Here," he gasped, unable to stop himself from jabbing his hips up to Prime's face.

Soundwave's long fingers pressed his folds apart, pulling his rim up to expose the area around his main anterior node. The heady scent of his arousal mixed with the energon sweets, hot oils and tangy energy. The opening of his valve pulled in on itself tightly, trapping Optimus' glossa inside him and then he pushed out, the slightly raised rim widening with a hot gush of fresh lubricant.

"Please…here, lick. Inside…" Soundwave whispered pleadingly, the corners of his mouth wet with oral oils.

Optimus' expression might have been surprised. Obviously Soundwave had not received this kind of attention in a long time. He returned to his attentions with renewed vigor, curling his glossa along the inside of the rim to rub at Soundwave's primary node.

"Your valve tastes so sweet and delicious," Optimus murmured, his voice muffled.

The Autobot lapped up the emerging lubricant and candied sweets, getting them smeared across his lips and cheeks. Prime slid his hands underneath Soundwave's aft to push his hips up so he could reach inside his bondmate's valve even further. His glossa probed at the engorged node before Prime twisted his helm slightly to seek out the next smaller one.

One of Soundwave's legs wound over Optimus' broad shoulder, the tip of his pede rubbing down the main seam of the Autobot's back. His wet fingers moved up to grip the sides of Optimus' helm, thumbs sliding up the long, elegant finials.

"Please, please…" he moaned, bending his knees while he pushed his shoulders back onto the berth.

The wings snapped out then, the tips hanging off the edges of the berth. They thumped uncontrollably against the berth and the solar panels shimmered brightly like liquid silver, arcs of electricity surging down the reflective surface. Soundwave made a high sound in his vocalizer when overload finally hit him. Lubricant flowed from the tightly clenching hole of his valve, each clench forcing out more and more thick fluid past the opening and down the curve of his aft.

Optimus sat up, apparently pleased how quickly he had gotten Soundwave to cum. He wiped the fluid from his face and lounged back on the berth in a satisfied sort of way. "Obviously you haven't had that for a while, your valve quivered so readily," Prime commented with a smirk. "And those sweet moans… very melodic."

Soundwave was avoiding Optimus' gaze, evidently a little mortified at how easily he had given in. His shoulders and wings continued to give faint twitches, his body still recovering from his overload high. He didn't reply – he didn't have to.

Instead, Soundwave rolled over and pulled himself closer to the other mech, worming himself in between the strong thighs. The orange optics flickered upwards, holding Optimus' stare for a brief moment before they coyly looked away. Soundwave worked with small, almost shy licks against the still-closed panel of his bondmate's codpiece. First, he traced the raised ridges with the tip of his wet glossa and coated the rectangular seam with his oral oils before he moved his attention to the stretched cables between Optimus' armour gaps. Soundwave lapped along the thickest one and nipped at it lightly with his sharp denta just so he could soothe it with slow, open-mouthed kisses.

Prime's optics lightened and he tilted his helm back. The solar paneled wings were presented to him and he reached forward to squeeze the edge of one. It crackled under his fingers, but this time it didn't shock him. Curious, the Autobot pinched the other wing and watched it change colour.

"I'm not sure…does that feel good to you? Or are they still too sensitive yet?" Prime wondered.

However, the Autobot's panel remained firmly closed, as if he was paying no attention to Soundwave's attempts at getting it open. Soundwave exhaled heavily and stopped, only to press his cheek against it.

"Not sensitive… not much sensors," he murmured, voice muffled against the metal. "Sensors calibrated to react with temperature, electrical stimulation and energy. Hinges and joints more pressure sensiti—"

When Optimus experimentally pulled at one wing from the joint, Soundwave's sentence dwindled into a short yelp and the wing fluttered in his hands from the attention.

"Oops, sorry," Optimus quickly replied, removing his hands. "I've touched a Seeker's wings before…and obviously Prowl's. But I've never seen these so I don't know how to treat these."

Finally to play nicely – and because he couldn't resist anymore – Optimus opened his panel for his probing bondmate. The tip of his spike remained firmly nestled in its spike housing, revealing how much self-control he had. The folds of his valve glistened with a light sheen of lubricant as well, but Prime reached down with one hand to play with the tubing of Soundwave's neck, pressing at it to hinder the flow.

"You're so eager. Why the change in mood?"

It was like a switch. Immediately the orange in the telepath's optics dimmed, the colour practically smouldering like embers from a fire. He tipped his helm back, the energon and coolant racing faster through his neck tubing with even greater excitement than before.

"Optimus," he trilled out softly, lowering his helm closer to the other mech's interface, deliberately allowing the large fingers to press harder against his tubing. He extended his glossa and dragged the flat of it slowly from the base of Optimus' valve, the tip dipping teasingly inside, slowly up to the wide spike housing. There was a loud sound of suction when Soundwave mouthed around the protruding spike tip and sucked hard.

The polished surface of the wall behind them caught the reflection of the Decepticon's aft raised up high from where he knelt, the entrance of his valve glistening and empty.

Prime's optics darkened and his vents sped up when he finally activated the coding to extend his spike fully, impressive with its long and thick shaft and its heavily ridged, flared tip pressing up into the air eagerly. He grabbed Soundwave's helm, shoving his fingers into the telepath's mouth. The Decepticon sucked on his fingers, rolling them across his glossa.

"Now…" Prime said after he pulled his digits free. "What is it my _bondmate _wants from me?"

Soundwave surged up to straddle Prime's lap. He reached down, fingers seeking out the mech's sizable spike.

"You," Soundwave answered, taking his bondmate's cock into his hand. "Your optics. On me…only on me."

He acted as if he had gone crazy with lust for the Autobot leader, and perhaps he had. Leaning forward, pushing his hips against Optimus' body so that he could rub the hot opening of his valve against the big cock he held. Sticky lubricant and energon syrup smeared across the spike's ridges and pressed his slick valve folds against it, moaning quietly while he teased himself.

Prime's optics were dim and his hands were firmly placed on Soundwave's aft. His vents expelled hot air and he blindly went along with his mate until he suddenly seem to realize what he was doing and snapped out of his trance.

With a snarl, Optimus surged upwards and flipped Soundwave underneath him. He grabbed the Decepticon's hands and pushed them up so he could lean down and kiss Soundwave with passionate fervor. Optimus took great pleasure in pushing his glossa past Soundwave's swollen lips to ravage the inside.

"Seducing the Prime… punishment is death," Optimus murmured as he lifted his hips, roughly shoving Soundwave over to lay on his front. Optimus leaned down, pushing Soundwave's thighs open so he could run his lips along a smooth inner thigh. "As the Royal Consort…you get to seduce me all you want."

Soundwave was too far gone to even dignify that with an answer. He raised his aft up, with his knees spread on the berth and presented himself properly.

"I was unaware that you required seducing," Soundwave murmured with a low, thick voice.

He reached between his own legs and spread his folds between his fingers, pulling them outwards to show the willing hole of his valve. Fluids had already welled up around the lip and when Soundwave exerted more pressure, widening the rim even more so that a glimpse of his inner walls could be seen, the fluid trickled down his interface.

Optimus admired the sight, ducking down so he could press his lips against the folds. He teasingly passed his glossa over Soundwave's finger before pressing past the tight rim to lick up any remains of the syrupy energon treats. Hot wet lubricant leaked out onto his mouth, dripping down his chin and neck cords as Optimus pressed his glossa in further, stimulating Soundwave's anterior node directly.

He heard the telepath release a rapid sequence of clicks, muffled into the berth's mattress from the intense stimulation. Soundwave rocked his aft in the air and his wings shook with lust. The solar panels activated one by one in his pleasure, shimmering with their iridescent light.

"Prime…" Soundwave called out, turning his helm to the side so that he could glare at his bondmate. His glare would have been formidable had it not been for his rapidly flickering optics and the half-delirious look of pleasure on his features.

Optimus looked up with an equally as ineffective glare. He tried to snarl menacingly to keep Soundwave in line and then mounted his bondmate, sliding his body over the telepath's to rest heavily on him. He was much bigger than the Decepticon and his cock rubbed along a juncture between Soundwave's pelvic unit and leg. While Optimus reached back and positioned himself, the bulbous tip of his cock spread the folds of his mate's wet valve, forcing them out while the rim slowly yielded to accept him inside. With a _pop_ the very tip was in and Optimus wasted no time by slamming his hips forward, shoving his cock all the way inside. Soundwave didn't waste any time either – slamming his own aft back to meet Optimus' thrust. He lowered his chest to the berth fully, tilting his hips at a high angle so that the deeply ridged surface of Optimus' shaft would rub against the back of his valve lining.

"Prime: fucks like a drone with a 16-bit processing chip," Soundwave growled and gnashed his sharp denta at his mate challengingly. "If this had been a Decepticon claiming session, you would have been thrown out of the game by now."

Optimus slammed his hips forward, his cock penetrating Soundwave fully and forcing the tiny inlet to start to dilate or risk damage.

"You fucking slut," he snarled, raising his arm up so he could forcibly grasp Soundwave's throat and squeeze. "You know as well as I you came to me for a reason. And that reason wasn't because your Decepticon friends love fucking you."

With Prime's strong fist cutting off most of the coolant and energon flowing through his cpu, Soundwave made a muffled choking noise and took a moment to savour the hazy feeling of everything else falling away _but _the sensation of the large cock that stretched his valve so deep inside.

"I never took the time to find out," Soundwave gasped out, clawing into the mattress. He managed to turn his helm to the side, to stare at the other mech with glittering optics. "Should I?"

Optimus answered by tightening his grip on Soundwave's neck punishingly hard. "I _dare _you, slut," Optimus whispered before he let go, allowing the telepath some air. "You won't be able to go anywhere after this. Especially not after I send you to Ratchet and have you fixed up…just so I can impregnate you, you fiery, troublesome bitch, would you like it—" Optimus punctuated his words by slamming his hips forward, the metal of his pelvic unit squealing against Soundwave's aft, "—if I did that? Made you pregnant with my baby? Your gestation chamber full and heavy with my cum…a little newspark feeding from your body like a little parasite."

Soundwave sobbed from the pleasure that assaulted him mercilessly. It was one thing he couldn't deny how much he got off from Prime's hard, rough technique and knowing the Autobot was more than capable of claiming him, over and over again. The carrier protocols flared back into life, demanding to be sated with a sparkling from this powerful alpha and Soundwave hated himself from wanting it, despite the cold dread he knew would settle down back inside him once the euphoria of their fucking died down.

"You have not seen how troublesome I can _be _when I am in heat," Soundwave snarled back, placing his palms flat on the berth so he could push his body back. "I will tear you apart. All I require is a few pulses of your spark and your spike pumping transfluid. The rest of your body does not _need _to be attached."

Optimus laughed. He stretched one leg out behind him, the complicated workings of his pedes gripping into the berth. Now he fucked Soundwave harder, grinding his cock in deep before pulling back halfway, thoroughly enjoying the tight ribbing squeezing around him perfectly.

"I've fucked plenty of mechs in heat before, don't count yourself so special, my bondmate," Optimus purred, rubbing his face against the back of Soundwave's neck.

"My heat cycle: different from the others," Soundwave proclaimed, craning his neck back so that he could kiss along the line of Optimus' jaw.

Soundwave couldn't last long. His gestation inlet was now fully dilated and at that angle, the tip of Optimus' spike had breached it fully, lodged inside the space that would lead into his gestation chamber. The intensity was too much, the ecstasy sharp and demanding on his sensors. Soundwave couldn't even move properly, suffocated by the other mech's heavy energy field and weight. His optics flickered rapidly and his lips moved, wet at the seams with oral fluid that he couldn't help trickling down the side of his chin. Finally, Soundwave found himself tipping over the edge. His body seized and he moaned out his bondmate's designation – either as a warning or a call, perhaps both.

Naturally it didn't take Optimus much longer than his bondmate to climax. He dug his pede hard into the berth and pushed his cock in deep, holding his position until he was finished spurting hot cum into Soundwave's gestation tank. When it was over the energy seemed to drain out of him and he shifted back, his cock sliding back up into its housing. The large mech slumped over onto the berth and flipped himself around so he was laying on his back, limbs spread. Soundwave teetered over and rested on his side, his optics staring right at Optimus

"Stop looking at me like that."

"Optimus Prime…" Soundwave began. His vents labored still, trying to expel hot air from their intensive interface. "Do you truly intend on sparking me?"

Optimus tilted his head away from the penetrating stare. "To…secure the bonds, the Council will have it no other way. They wish for heirs. The Matrix wishes for heirs. I will fulfill the desire."

It was exactly what Soundwave was expecting Optimus Prime to say. The telepath stood up.

"Understood," he said simply, though in reality he didn't know what to think. "By your leave, Lord Prime."

Soundwave left for his own assigned quarters, uncomfortable with the prospect of recharging next to the Autobot.

* * *

End of arc one

* * *

Up next, Triviality's first interlude! Remember to leave us a review!


	15. Interlude I

Yeah... so this chapter took way long. We had it written about a year and a half ago, probably more like three years, looked it over and found it was terrible. So cue the last MONTH of editing to get it into something readable. This chapter has BY FAR been the most problematic of all so far. I mean, I think we authors were to the point of tearing our hair out and snarling at each other furiously over the internet about how to fix it.

*gasps for air*

So here it is, the interlude in all its glory. Thank you so friggin' much to anyone who reviewed and whoever sent PM's lately. We need to be prodded in order to update sometimes, because, well. We do have lives, university, jobs, blah blah. And because sometimes editing this stuff isn't fun at all.

Anyways, this chapter has some explicit sexual content and violence!

* * *

_**Dead End slums, Polyhex. Last quarter of the Golden Age.**_

* * *

Puddles of dirty oil and diluted acid rain splashed underneath the youngling's pedes as he ran through the narrow streets.

"Can't run away forever!"

Three enforcers were chasing him, hot on his heels and eager to get their servos on him. He knew that he was on their blacklist but the chase had been going on for quite a while and usually, they would have given up by now. However, they were more relentless this time. The youngling doggedly tried to evade them as best as he could and though he knew the streets well…so did they. His body was already burning from exertion.

He was lucky that the ghetto's streets were riddled with deep potholes and various scrap metal from decaying buildings – there was no way for them to transform in that mess and he purposely led them in circles, deeper into the ghetto. They knew this too and when the first opportunity arose, one of them was able to transform. With a sudden burst of speed from his altmode, the enforcer surged towards the young mech he was chasing. The youngling couldn't jump away in time; he was practically bulldozed down by the enforcer's bumper and the impact had him skidding into a wall.

Primus, that hurt.

The youngling had no time to waste. Not with two of the enforcers advancing towards him. He kicked one long leg out so he could throw himself back onto his pedes. Pain exploded down his back from where it had been scraped badly, but he ignored it and used the stinging sensation to fuel him onward.

"Grab him!"

One of the enforcers lurched forward, arms outstretched to nab him but the young mech ducked and sprinted out from the gap between their bodies.

The chase began anew.

He passed mechs he knew and though they did look up at the heated chase, they didn't lift a servo to help him. No one wanted to mess with the enforcers and really, the sight was nothing new. The youngling spied his opportunity when he caught a glimpse of a low, under hanging pipe protruding from one of the buildings. With outstretched arms, he leapt high in the air and got a good grip on the pipe. It creaked dangerously and the layer of acid-water on it scalded his palms. But the mechling didn't let that stop him. He heaved himself up over it with surprisingly agile movements that belied his waif-like body and pulled himself up onto a ledge.

The enforcers had stopped right beneath him and they were cursing loudly. One of them attempted to climb up as well, but the rusted out pipe just snapped in his hands. The mechling didn't bother to look down. He wobbled dangerously as he put one of his narrow pedes in front of the other and followed the ledge around the building. He could hear the general bustle of the mechs around him and the enforcers scuttling on the ground, trying to see where he was going just to catch him out.

There wasn't really anywhere for the mechling to escape. He tried to jump over onto the next building but his body seized the moment he leapt off the edge, making him tragically miss the handhold he was supposed to grab onto.

The height he fell from wasn't much, but he was a slum mech with a malnourished and inferiorly-built frame that was already succumbing to its injuries. He gave a high-pitched shriek of agony and static and felt something inside him shift that shouldn't have. This time, the mechling was unable to get up fast enough to escape and his spark sank with defeat when he heard the enforcers' pedes thunder down the street.

"Runt!" one of them yelled out, quickly spotting him.

"Did nowt wrong!" the mechling protested, crying out as he was grabbed by the arm and restrained.

"Sure ya didn't. Innocent and all that slag, right?" another enforcer mocked, and he elicited a laugh from his colleagues.

"What's this one called? These Empties all look the fraggin' same to me," asked the second mech of the enforcer group.

"Soundwave," replied the enforcer who had a hold on him. "Gives us more trouble than what he's worth, lil' thief."

The enforcer who had asked just snorted, wholly unimpressed. "Never thought a stupid minibot would give the department this much trouble."

"Nah, he ain't a minibot. He's just short!"

There was a loud guffaw and Soundwave yipped with distress as the enforcer shook him violently. Then the one who had been staring at him tilted his helm to the side and made a contemplative sound.

"Still…not a bad looking one. You know…being one of _them_," he said.

Soundwave clenched his denta. He knew where this was going. It wasn't the first time and certainly wouldn't be the last. Unkind fingers gripped him by the chin, forcing him to look up. The enforcer smirked.

"Love the optics."

The third enforcer who stood off by the entrance of the alley scoffed. "They all got the same damn orange optics down here at Dead End."

"Nah, his are different. Strange shape to them."

"You mean glitched. Look at 'em. One's lighter than the other."

One of the enforcers – Soundwave couldn't separate them anymore, not with the pain that was slowly eating him inside out – flicked a finger at his optical covering. The action wasn't hard enough to add any more cracks to its already damaged surface, but it reverberated straight to his cpu like a hammer smashing down onto him.

"Done nowt wrong," the mechling repeated desperately, trying to shake off the hand that kept touching his face. "Done now—kzzt—" His defective vocaliser sputtered out with a hiss of static, leaving him mouthing into the open air.

The enforcer that had the hand on Soundwave's face just smirked nastily. "Glitched vocaliser too? Even better. Pretty lips like yours should be kept busy with _other _tasks."

The enforcer standing by the alleyway entrance took a step forward. "You're not seriously gonna…?" The red light of his visor settled onto Soundwave with an expression of plain disgust. "Aren't ya 'fraid of catching cosmic rust?"

"Nah, you can tell if they got cosmic rust or not."

Soundwave's mouth trembled and he could feel his tank almost physically drop to the ground from despair. The pain from his injuries was even more acute now; the abrasions on his outer plating stung badly, further emphasised by the heat emanating from the mech who continued to restrain him. The injury within his internals was throbbing unpleasantly, almost in tune with his wildly pulsing spark.

There was a horrible pressure within Soundwave's helm, as if it was being squeezed by a giant hand. The youngling could feel it roaring dully through the tubing that fed his cpu chip, and he didn't know what it was demanding from him.

_'Hope the fragger catches a virus.'_

The sullenly-spoken words came from the enforcer who had expressed his revulsion, obviously addressing the mech who was groping Soundwave. There was no answer and it took Soundwave a few moments to realise that the reason to that was because the enforcer never actually _spoke_. Soundwave had heard it all in his head.

Soundwave began to squirm when the hands migrated down to his thighs. What had been one thought quickly multiplied into several others and none of them were actually coming from him. He knew what the three enforcers were thinking about; he could practically _hear _their synapses firing electrical information from one channel to the next. It hadn't been the first time he could hear thoughts from others, and it was unfortunate because his newfound ability would often leave him incapacitated and overwhelmed with a splitting processor ache.

_'Bet he's a nice tight fit.'_

_'Oh hurry up. I ain't got all cycle just to watch you fuck that piece of scrap.'_

_'I want a go after this.'_

Then one thought stood out like an obnoxious neon sign.

_'Gonna need to kill the runt after this. Don't want the whole thing coming back to bite me on the aft afterwards.'_

Panic consumed Soundwave and he screamed, "No!"

He wasn't sure what had happened after that. His vision had completely blacked out and he vaguely recalled experiencing a painful sensation of release. The pressure that had been accumulating inside his head was gone, leaving behind an unpleasant emptiness. He found himself no longer held, but instead sprawled out on the unforgiving ground.

Soundwave onlined his optics.

All three enforcers were seemingly unconscious, sprawled out along with him. He knew this because he could still feel their energy fields weakly radiating around their bodies. There was even a servo twitching on the mech nearest to him and he was producing a low hum of static.

Unlike the voices he that he began to hear in his head, _this _was new. Soundwave didn't pause to think about it. He scrambled up to his pedes and managed to stand up just briefly before his legs gave way, sending him clunking back down. With much more slower movements, Soundwave tried to stand up a little more carefully. He half-stumbled and half-crawled towards each fallen enforcer so that he could rid them of their possessions; after all he wasn't one to waste an opportunity like that.

He left the weapons well alone – they all contained tracking chips – but quickly gobbled up the two energon-bars that he found. He was even lucky to find a good amount of credits between the three mechs. One of them even had a small electro-blade and as much as he wanted to take it, he couldn't. Who knew if it was tagged or not.

Without wanting to push his luck, Soundwave scurried away.

The door had a plaque engraved with the universal symbol of one offering medical services. When it slid open, a slender green-plated femme with sharp features and dark red optics stepped out. She immediately scowled at the sight of Soundwave.

"My services are not free," she said. "Aren't there any service centres down at your district? Go there."

Soundwave couldn't take his chances there. Not only were they underfunded and short-staffed, they were also monitored by the enforcers.

"I can pay," he hastily offered with a vocaliser that she could easily tell was faulty.

The medic scrutinised him heavily. She could barely tell what colour he was supposed to be, though he did appear to be in somewhat better shape than most Empties she'd encountered.

"Youngling, you need a complete overhaul. I doubt what you have can cover a check-up let alone anything else," she haughtily retorted.

He became desperate when he saw her arm move up towards the door's console. "Please!" he cried out imploringly and his hands shook as he held out the credits he had pilfered earlier for to see. "Mercy, marra…!"

"I'm not your _marra_," she snapped.

Nevertheless, she paused when she saw the amount of credits he was offering. It was enough to cover not one, but two medical check-ups. She sighed and beckoned him inside. The mechling's bright orange optics lit up with surprise and he followed her into the medbay.

"You're not supposed to be in this sector so let's get one thing straight." The femme medic glanced at him with narrowed optics to make sure that he wasn't doing anything he shouldn't. "I don't trust you lot. Once I'm done, you're out of here. Yes?" But before he could answer, she gestured at the examination berth. "Sit. Let's get this over and done with."

Undeterred by her open hostility, Soundwave hoisted himself up onto the berth and watched expectantly as she wheeled a diagnostics unit over to him. It began to beep continuously the moment she hooked it up to the port at the back of his neck column. The medic made a low hum at the back of her vocaliser as she studied the long scrolling list that unit displayed.

"My, my…absolutely deplorable," she murmured with the sort of tone that suggested she didn't care either way.

Soundwave had no idea what 'deplorable' meant, but the mechling somehow knew that it wasn't good.

"Can ye fix me?" he tentatively asked and rubbed over the thin plating of his abdomen. "Hurts here."

"No doubt. You'll have to open up. I can't ascertain what's wrong with you – not with the corrupt values I'm getting here on the unit."

He frowned, not understanding what she wanted him to do. "Open…?"

"Your chestplates. I need to check your internals," she explained impatiently.

Oh. He leaned back onto the berth and reluctantly parted his chestplates. He was more wary than embarrassed at exposing such a vulnerable area of himself to a complete stranger. She deftly pushed aside one of the plates that refused to open all the way and peered into the open workings of his torso.

"Your main fuel pump has detached from its mount and it's digging into the surrounding protoform, which explains the stabbing pain you're feeling. Your frontal coolant pipe has split –"

The medic poked at something inside him that made him wince.

"—that will need to be changed," she blithely continued. "What's more, I can see a small tear on the side of your secondary fuel tank. That will have to be patch welded. These are the main injuries – there's lots more but they're non-life threatening and besides…you can't afford it."

"Okay," he said and stared up at her.

"Good."

She stepped back, turning towards the bench where most of her tools were located. A loud crash had her whirl around on her pedes with a shout, ready to kick the young slum mech out of her medbay. Soundwave had huddled up into a ball on examination berth, accidently kicking the diagnostics unit and sending it up against the wall on its wheeled base.

"What's wrong?" she demanded.

His orange optics flickered with fear and he pointedly stared at the tool she was holding in one hand. It was a medium-sized grinder. Realisation dawned on her; chassis parts were such a commodity in the Dead End slums that Empties often resorted to cannibalising each other's frames just to get by.

The femme placed the grinder away with a frown. "I'm not going to use this. I was just putting it away."

Soundwave's shoulders slumped with relief. But his gaze continued to follow her every movement and step with the uneasiness of a jittery creature just waiting to bolt at the first sign of danger. Wordlessly, she set the tray of tools next to his berth and with a sharp gesture of her small hand, had him lay back properly onto it.

"You have a choice," she stated. "You either get anaesthesia to dampen your sensors or a fuel top up. Energon don't come cheap and you haven't paid enough for both."

His decision wasn't very difficult. "To—kzzttt-!"

The femme rolled the light in her optics at his malfunctioning vocaliser and with an annoyed sound, reached over and jammed her fingers into the exposed space between his neck struts. Soundwave jerked when he felt her tweak a wire that made him feel more violated than it should have.

"Try again," she instructed after pulling her servo away.

"Top up," he said.

She grunted, satisfied for the time being. "Static's still there but for now it's more than enough."

In the end, she had his main motor controls disabled so that he wouldn't jolt during the surgery. And Primus, did it hurt. He clenched his denta and stared wildly at the ceiling as she none-too-gently pushed his pump back into its correct place. When it came to welding the tear in his tank, his optical feed almost shorted out at the burn that had his circuits screaming in pain. Replacing the coolant pipe was an almost pleasant procedure in comparison.

"I'm surprised," the medic abruptly remarked as she connected the nozzle of an external fuelling dispenser directly into his tank. "Your lasercore is recessed too deep into your chassis. At first, I thought it was because the mountings of your cradle had degenerated from your poor health but I was wrong. The framework of your cradle is articulated. First time I've ever seen this. What's the purpose of his modification?"

He was still recovering from the surgery and barely managed to focus his optics onto her. "Ne'er modified…"

Now she just looked baffled and turned her attention back onto the diagnostics unit that was still plugged into him. Her thin mouth pursed into a confused pout when she inputted a different command into the unit's control panel to bring up a different set of readings. But it wasn't long before her expression smoothed out into something else completely.

"Tell me…you been noticing anything weird going on with your head lately?" she asked idly.

"Yeh," he affirmed with his crude dialect, sitting up a bit straighter now that he was feeling much better with the fresh fuel and repairs. "Lotsa buzzing. Too much buzzing. Hear lotsa talking."

"Talking?"

"From others."

"Mechs around you?"

"Yeh."

The femme didn't ask any other questions but merely tapped the tip of her finger against the diagnostics unit before she took a step backwards.

"I need to get something from my office. Wait here and don't move until I come back – I don't need you ripping out the pipe and wasting all that energon all over the floor."

She barely saw him nod, pivoting around to briskly walk out of her small medbay and straight into her even smaller office. She tried turning on her main communications console and when it didn't boot properly, she gave it a vicious kick. It booted the second time around. First she accessed an online database and her optics became brighter and brighter the more she read. Then with a few typed commands, the femme scrolled through a short contact list and selected one of the designations so that she could patch a call.

"C'mon…answer me you piece of slag," she snarled underneath her breath.

A gruff mech voice finally answered. "What the pit do you want, Tappet?"

She skipped the pleasantries completely. "You still do business with that slimy cabaret owner?"

The mech on the other end immediately became suspicious. "Why y'ask?"

"Because I think I got something he'll be interested in buying and I want a good cut from it."

Now he sounded interested. "Oh?"

"A rare frame-type. Rarest of the rare." She lowered her voice. "I got a Cassette-carrier in my medbay as we speak."

"Eh?"

Tappet glanced over her shoulder, looking through the glass window that allowed her to see what was going on in her medbay. The young slum mech was still on the berth.

"Cassette carrier. Telepaths," she whispered hurriedly, turning back towards her console. "They carry symbiotes. Rumoured to be fertile as femmes and aggressive as Seekers. Like femmes, they have to be conceived by spark merge. And you wanna know what the best part of it is?"

"What?"

"He's a crummy Empty," Tappet excitedly informed him.

In other words, he wouldn't be missed.

"I'll be right there. Keep him occupied."

The femme smirked. "No problem."

They ended the call. Tappet stood up and left her office. She nearly collided into Soundwave, who wasn't waiting on his berth anymore like she had commanded. He had apparently disconnected the cables from his body himself and shut his chestplates.

"Did I not tell you not to move?" she snapped.

He gazed at her with flat, orange optics and belatedly she realised what it meant being around a telepath, especially if you were planning on selling said telepath to a slave trader. She swore out loud and reached up, ready to grab an EMP device off the counter next to her. But she wasn't fast enough; Soundwave had already decapitated the femme with her own plasma-cutter before driving the tool into her breastplate, straight through her spark.

Soundwave wrenched the plasma-cutter out and feverishly looked around before he spotted the energon storage tank. He rushed over and quickly guzzled down as much as his systems could hold. He pushed the trigger back and let the energon drain onto the floor, then activated the plasma-cutter and set it a good distance away. The lit end sizzled against the floor and Soundwave ran out of the building as quickly as he could before the complex exploded.

* * *

_**Kaon, half a vorn (41.5 years later) later.**_

* * *

Shockwave stared outside the shuttle window, his hand idly tapping over a button on the console in front of him. His singular yellow optic surveyed the landscape and surface structure of the city as it passed below him. Plumes of smoke rose from various parts of the southern sector with visible fires, and along with heavily overtaxed airways and road system, the city looked like an overpopulated bar fight.

Kaon was in even worse shape than what was being portrayed by the media.

The shuttle vibrated as the engines started to power down in preparation for landing. From the vantage point of his commanding seat, Shockwave turned to gaze long at the shuttle's pilot – a young clone he had manufactured. Clones were the best kind of soldiers, but there was much improvement to be made. Hence the current trip to Kaon – a place he would never willingly go unless there was a business transaction to be made.

Gears and metal squealed as the landing bars descended, and giant puffs of steam rolled past the windows as the hydraulics slowly lowered them down to the ground. The clone, a seeker shape, looked back up to Shockwave after completing his task.

"Good work, clone," Shockwave said shortly.

"Sir," the clone's smooth voice replied, and he gave a short nod of his helm. "What shall I do next, sir?" he asked.

"You will accompany me as my guard," Shockwave stated. "Do you understand?"

"Yes," the clone answered back and stood up.

The shuttle now had landed and stabilized, so Shockwave pressed a button on the clear topped console, engaging the opening for the ramp. Shockwave stood up, his left hand held stiffly at his side while his other, his _normal _hand swung with his motions. He slowly descended down the ramp's metal grate, his steps loud.

His clone carefully followed, alert of the environment around him while still remaining a respectable distance from Shockwave.

At the bottom Shockwave stopped, gazing up at the dark grey sky. Particles of ash floated down, covering their armour in a light dust.

Looting and burning was becoming more and more common.

The docking port for this particular place was circular, open to the skies above, while various doors went inside the complex. Shockwave analyzed the structure for a moment until a small, greasy looking mech approached. He was rubbing his hands together and wore an insipid smile on his face.

"Shockwave, sir," he purred in a dark baritone, his red optics winking mysteriously.

When Shockwave's optic settled on him, the mech breathed loudly and motioned with his hands.

"Aaa this way sir," he said, taking up a place in front of the purple-plated mech, looking back to make sure he was following.

The short dirty mech typed in a code for one of the doors and stepped aside, making it obvious that he wasn't going to go with them. Shockwave stepped inside and his clone followed. Further across a hall, another mech stood waiting for Shockwave. He was young, tall and somewhat attractive for the deplorable condition his blue and white plating was in.

Suddenly Shockwave felt the volatile energy of telepathy and he squared his shoulders and threw up a strong mental barrier in his mind. Shockwave stared intently at the young blue and white mech in front of him, mustering up his own energy field to be a massive imposing force that blanketed his mind and body like an impenetrable wall.

"Direct me to your master, youngling."

The young mech balked when Shockwave spoke – whether it was from his large, rather intimidating form and lack of an identifiable faceplate, the fact that his telepathy had been effortlessly blocked or a combination of both factors. A heavy burst of grating static emanated from his vocaliser before the actual words were heard, "Yous two need to be sear—"

The mech who had met them outside poked his helm in through the still-open doorway. "They're good, kid. Long-term, _esteemed_ customers of the boss'," he quickly interrupted before directing an apologetic look towards Shockwave. "Sorry sir, new help these days, ya see."

The youngling pursed his full mouth, appearing wary and troubled and though his optical band was an obscure yellow, one could almost see the optics behind narrowing. But he just nodded and jerked his helm at Shockwave and the clone dutifully standing behind him. "Sure. Follow me, marra."

He led them out of the small entrance they had been confined in and through thick doors into the complex inside. Heavy machinery noises and various clanks of metal striking against metal and gears rotating against each other filled the area. Containers surrounded them, stacked upon each other, and to the left ran a long conveyer belt, transporting the heavier containers to be loaded up onto the top levels via powerful automated arms for shipping. The youngling continued to walk, and occasionally, he'd glance over his thinly-plated shoulder to cast more mistrustful looks at Shockwave following him. Once again, his mind surged forward to the newcomer like a probe; though more tentative this time.

It was blocked.

"Through here," the youngling said when they reached a secluded corridor and an office door as he continued to suspiciously glare at Shockwave.

He inputted several number glyphs into the control pad located on the wall and the door obediently slid open, his blue hands impatiently gesturing Shockwave and the clone to enter. Inside, the boss stood up from where he had been sitting at the table. He was a tall mech with a burgundy paintjob and two distinct audio horns protruding from his helm.

"Shockwave! It's a real pleasure," the boss greeted loudly – twisting his hands together in a complicated gesture of welcome that those of Kaon observed. "I trust ya arrived here with no issues?"

Shockwave's vocaliser fizzed softly before he replied. "It was fine, Landbreaker."

Shockwave's optic passed over the room and landed on the amateur telepath who was awkwardly standing close to the door.

_'Does he use you?'_

Soundwave tensed when he caught Shockwave's thought. Landbreaker shared a suspicious look with the youngling, who merely shook his head and shrugged.

"I've come to gather some unusual items and I wanted to make sure they shipped safely," Shockwave finally said. "As well as negotiate the price."

Landbreaker nodded and motioned with his hands. The two mechs sat down at one of the tables. The clone that was following Shockwave stood stiffly behind him, gazing at nothing.

"Sit down, clone," Shockwave murmured with a wave of his arm.

The clone nodded and did so, his wings flaring upwards as he sat down. Though the Seeker was only mildly attractive, he was big and intimidating with a few obvious signs of being armed. Landbreaker's red optics narrowed with distrust at the sight of him.

"Come now, Shockwave, after so many transactions with me, why do you insist on bringing that thing?" Landbreaker's denta gleamed in the light as his smile widened. "I thought we've moved past that…stage." His helm jerked, motioning to the lanky mech still hovering at the doorway. "Soundwave," he called out sharply.

Soundwave silently obeyed Landbreaker's command and walked past Shockwave – though he kept his distance from the clone – to stand by his boss' side. Landbreaker pushed his chair back to display an image of relaxed confidence; however whether that was for show in the presence of a powerful client was yet to be seen.

Soundwave's mouth tightened.

"Would you care for some refreshments before we start? I've gotten my servos on some special brew straight from Praxus. Very expensive stuff."

"No, I am fuelled to optimal levels," Shockwave replied, setting one arm on the table. "You should know that I always bring a guard with me. This one is being tested in a more interactive environment. Depending on the results, I'll know whether to scrap him or not," Shockwave replied, his voice taking a pitch of annoyance.

"Ah, of course, of course," Landbreaker amended, though he looked like he hardly believed the explanation. "Well, I could always use extra muscle around here. If you're lookin' to get rid of him, I'll take him. Provided he's generally functional. I don't need 'em to talk, just need 'em to know when to shoot."

"Would you be willing to sell this one?" Shockwave suddenly asked, turning the conversation around entirely as he pointed at Soundwave. "He is quite attractive," Shockwave finished.

Soundwave's mouth twisted into a scowl at Shockwave's words and Landbreaker's benign expression slid from his broad face like oil on a flat plane.

"I'm afraid this one's not for sale," he said curtly and as he spoke, he reached up with big hand to cup Soundwave's aft possessively. Then he laughed, loudly and smacked the mech's posterior hard. The sound of it rang throughout the room. "What can I say…my lil' assistant here is good at what he does."

"I can imagine," Shockwave replied with his yellow optic staring right at Soundwave. "Anyway," his cool voice pressed on. "I do think you know what I've come for, but I shall reiterate."

Here Shockwave's personal interest in the entire meeting seemed to grow as he took out a small device and pressed a button. A small holographic replica of a spark chamber popped up.

"With these I'll be able to learn more about inner workings and sparkling development. Along with many medical uses and perhaps...further uses to aid the future war effort," he said before shutting the hologram off with a snap. "So I'm curious as to how many you've got around…I'll also be interested in any slaves you _would _be willing to get rid of. I have need of some. And of course, I am sure I will continue my business with you, depending on the final results I achieve with merchandise."

With one hand still resting on his assistant's pert aft, Landbreaker fell silent for a brief contemplative moment. "I've gotten a…fair amount, just as you've requested. Most are from stragglers that no one will miss. However…" Landbreaker picked up a cube he had been sipping from earlier and finished what was left in it before speaking again. "I've managed to acquire a few from …higher end mechs from the delta-3 quadrant. Better built ones. And one of those sparks comes from a femme. You'll understand that my prices for those particular sparks will be higher. It was hard work for ya getting them, wasn't it Soundwave?"

Soundwave glanced down, appearing a little tense standing there next to his boss. "Yeah, it was, mar—" Before he could finish his sentence, his vocaliser fritzed out completely and his mouth pulled into a painful grimace.

"And if Shockwave here agrees to my generous price listing," Landbreaker continued with a growing smile. "We'll be able to get that problematic vocal-box of yers fixed. Maybe you'll be a bit more enjoyable in the berth after that, hmm?"

This time, Soundwave's hips jerked again when Landbreaker slapped his aft again and the scowl on the visored faceplates deepened further. But Landbreaker paid no heed to that. Instead, he scribbled down several glyph numbers onto an empty datapad resting on the desk next to him.

"This is my asking price, along with the other smaller items you wanted," Landbreaker said, pushing the datapad towards Shockwave. "Whaddaya say?"

Shockwave manoeuvred the datapad towards himself with his one hand so he could look at it. With no facial plates it was impossible to tell what he thought of the offer.

"Unacceptable," Shockwave replied, sliding the datapad back. "And I'll like to see them before I agree to anything. Hopefully they're stored correctly and undamaged," he said blandly.

_'Why are you here with this mech?' _Shockwave suddenly projected within his mind.

Soundwave had heard his thoughts once again. The dark helm tilted towards Shockwave's direction and the visor flared ever so slightly in response. Soundwave's answer was a little sharp and defensive, even through the direct telepathy. '_Non' of ye bus'ness marra.'_

Landbreaker was unaware of the contact between his assistant and Shockwave and merely leaned forward, arranging his fingers into a steeple. "Tough times, Shockwave. I can't afford to go cheap y'know. And you know that my products are always of the most utmost quality and always reach you in good condition. I do have a reputation to hold."

"I refuse the offer," Shockwave said flatly. "Your reputation means nothing to me."

This time, one of Landbreaker's antennas twitched and his red optics flickered upwards, towards Soundwave who stared down at him steadily. Then, they both focused their attention back onto Shockwave.

"What if…" Landbreaker began. "What if I throw in another incentive into the package? I can spare a slave or two to sweeten the deal. Good hardy slaves too. One of them could be a femme if ya like that sort of thing. Got a pretty pink thing with big blue optics from the Tyger Pax region that I wouldn't mind…uh parting with. Would that be to yer liking?"

Soundwave's telepathy returned, an unobtrusive but still amateur presence probing experimentally at Shockwave's mind. Waiting perhaps for a stray thought or even a reaction that the one-optic'ked faceplate was incapable of showing.

Shockwave contemplated the offer while his irritation grew with each gentle prod Soundwave made on the brick wall guarding his thoughts.

_'You shouldn't be here,' _was Shockwave's reply. '_You have the potential to be more powerful than you've ever thought possible.' _Shockwave's yellow optic switched from staring at Landbreaker to Soundwave for another moment. '_You have the potential to be one of the most powerful mechs on this planet.' _

"The femme would work quite well, but only if she is has not mated. Otherwise she would be useless," Shockwave replied, pulling the datapad back towards himself for a second time. He looked over the price and details one last time before he accessed his account, providing his personal code and several other security measures to submit the final payment.

Landbreaker nodded, his grin too large to be innocent. "Oh, she's got no bondmate. That I know for a fact."

"Hopefully we'll be able to do more business before Cybertron falls into turmoil," Shockwave answered.

Soundwave obligingly took a step back as Landbreaker pushed his chair back and stood up with a soft whine of gears. The glee was visible on the burgundy-plated mech's faceplates; it was, after all, quite a hefty sum of credits. "You won't be disappointed Shockwave," he said, sounding very pleased. "But you did want to see the goods and I won't deny you that."

The wall behind the large desk was plain, with a large seam running from ceiling to floor. A scanner and keypad lay embedded to one side, much more sophisticated in comparison to the one outside. Landbreaker turned towards it and lazily punched in a few commands to activate it. The scanning equipment was quite thorough – passing over a beam of flickering light to read the personal signature of his systems and spark energy and when it verified his identity, the wall next to him parted with a low, heavy whine and a hiss of pressurized air.

Landbreaker opened his mouth to further elaborate but his optics abruptly darkened and he covered one of his antennas, evidently receiving a transmission from outside the room. Almost simultaneously, one of the worker mechs burst into the office. He was covered from helm to pede in soot and dust; rendering the original colour of his plating unknown.

"I told ya to keep a closer look on that crane," Landbreaker snarled before his subordinate could speak.

The worker looked flustered and quite distressed. Energon was splattered all over his chestplates. "Boss, the thing just went wild! Took a mech's arm clean off! Ya gotta come and shut the machine down. We dun know the pass codes!"

Whatever smug satisfaction that was on Landbreaker's face early had been wiped clean off. His optics darted from Soundwave to Shockwave, rested momentarily onto the Seeker clone and then back to Shockwave.

"My apologies, Shockwave. As you can see, I'm surrounded by incompetent idiots and I'm needed elsewhere. I'm sure Soundwave can be of assistance instead. In the meantime, once I've sorted out this current mess, I'll send out someone to pick up the goods for you and personally pack up the femme slave for shipping myself." He paused before adding as an afterthought. "Untouched of course. Like we agreed."

Landbreaker suddenly grabbed Soundwave's arm to pull him close. Soundwave's visor brightened at the intense gaze Landbreaker was giving him and whatever he saw in his boss's narrowed optics…or read in Landbreaker's mind had Soundwave nod quickly and look away. Satisfied, Landbreaker released him and addressed Shockwave, that oily business smile back on his face.

"Remember, I trust you not to do anything I wouldn't uh…approve of. But you're a professional, like I am. We wouldn't want to ruin this partnership of goodwill, now would we?" Landbreaker purred out to Shockwave.

With that, he inclined his helm at Shockwave and followed the worker out of the office. The door clicked shut, leaving Shockwave and the clone alone with Soundwave.

"This way," Soundwave said, and his voice trembled a little, perhaps from fear or from anger…the damaged vocaliser made it hard to tell. He turned into the doorway leading to Landbreaker's storage vault.

"You're afraid of me," Shockwave cut in as he stood up, staring at the doorway where Landbreaker had disappeared.

Soundwave stiffened at the words but he remained silent.

"That is a good thing. You recognize your new master deep down in your spark, even if you will not admit it to yourself," Shockwave said out loud, gesturing for his clone to follow. "Your potential is wasted here, Soundwave, with lowly mechs like Landbreaker."

Soundwave didn't reply and continued his short trek down the hallway. Shockwave followed and went through the doorway, padding along behind the telepath. Then, Soundwave stopped suddenly and his helm snapped back at Shockwave. The hands by his side unclenched and clenched periodically.

"Look marra. Here: fuel and safety. Do ye wanna—" A heavy layer of static, "—see them sparks, yay or nay?"

"Sparse fuel, by the look of you. And yes I'd like to see them," Shockwave responded. "But I reiterate... you could be so much more."

The youngling's plain visor brightened and his helm whipped forward, as if what Shockwave said burned him. As they reached the end of the corridor, he waved at a motion-sensitive panel and the area around them was illuminated from the lights above. Landbreaker's storage area consisted of a row of locked metal crates and on the walls, there were racks upon racks of weapons. The sparks Shockwave was to buy were laid in the middle, ready to be inspected. They were housed in slim, independently powered canisters that had a single green light upon them to indicate the sparks' status.

"Ye can open them up since ye paid," Soundwave shrugged. He stood at the far end of the room, away from Shockwave and close to the wall.

The canisters held Shockwave's interest now. He pressed a small button on the top, where the lid depressurized and slid back to reveal a brightly pulsing spark within a clear glass lasercore. It was beautiful, and he took a moment to appreciate it before snapping the top back shut.

"They are in very nice condition," he remarked.

"Sure they are, marra," Soundwave huffed. "I got 'em myself."

Shockwave tilted his helm up slightly, regarding the other mech coolly. "You have stated that several times."

At the last container, he finally found the femme's spark, and gazed long at it. The outside was an attractive white, while the inner energy was a dark blue. They swirled and clashed together, indicating her spark was on its mating cycle.

"Everything appears to be in order," Shockwave finally said, straightening up.

Soundwave's mouth twisted to one side in contemplation as he regarded Shockwave. He quietly walked past Shockwave and peered down the corridor as if expecting unwanted company. But when he saw the Shockwave's clone still guarding the outside, where the office was, he turned his helm slightly. His words were quiet, an almost whisper. "When ye said you could offer me more…what'd ye mean?"

Shockwave slowed, his arms resting at his sides. "You could be a part of something much greater than this. The strongest mechs on Cybertron are gathering to establish a faction. We will have need for a highly trained intelligence officer."

A loud, mocking exhale of air left Soundwave's vents. "Ye know what I am, don'ye marra?"

"Yes," Shockwave replied. "You are a lacklustre telepath with horrible skills, in poor nutritional health, and your accent and way of speaking hurt my audios."

"Fuck ye," Soundwave hissed waspishly. "Fuck ye with a rust pole." He ripped the visor from his faceplates with a loud click of unsnapping clips, exposing his low lineage by the color of his optics. "This…what I have now is the best I can hope fer." The thick, derisive emotion caused Soundwave's malfunctioning vocaliser to crackle horribly, the static buzzing out unhealthily and he winced with pain, optics flickering. Soundwave's hand slapped over his throat and when he recovered, his voice was hoarse and barely audible.

"Ye experiment with sparks," Soundwave continued to croak. "Ye just gonna experiment wit' mine. M'lucky Landbreaker doesn't know my frame type…or my type of spark."

"Why would I bother? Currently you're in no condition. If I wanted you for your spark, I would have already had you seized."

Shockwave stepped around him, prodding his clone on the shoulder with his cannon arm.

"Let's go."

As the clone pivoted on its thrusters, Shockwave seemed to change his mind. He turned back one more time towards Soundwave, his hand disappearing into his subspace. "If you have the courage…come find me." Like an afterthought, he tossed a shiny purple sigil at the mech's pedes. "That'll tell you where to go."

Landbreaker's booming voice sounded through the corridor. "You're happy with the merchandise then?"

He was flanked by two worker mechs and with a quick gesture, Landbreaker had them carefully pick up the canisters. Soundwave snapped the visor back onto his face before he quickly swiped the sigil off from the floor before anyone could notice, and curled his fingers around it to hide it.

"Yes. The product is in excellent condition," Shockwave responded.

"I'll have these taken to your shuttle along with the other things you ordered. Your… ah, new slaves are waiting for you there." Landbreaker's grin widened. "They are _very_ obedient."

Soundwave shot Shockwave one last venomous glare. He shoved the sigil underneath the plating of his thigh – for he lacked a subspace – and followed the others out.

Soundwave walked through the corridor and buzzed himself back through his boss' door. He slipped through the office's doorway and stopped before Landbreaker's large desk, rubbing once at the starkly-showing cables of his throat to soothe the ache.

"He's gone," Soundwave stated. "Ye need me for anything else, boss?"

Landbreaker had made his way back to his desk and he kicked his pedes up. "What the slag did he tell you?" Landbreaker growled, the dermal metal of his face stretched tightly over his lips. "You couldn't even find out what he was thinking? The fuck doesn't even have a _face _and only has one optic. You're falling behind, Soundwave. Don't make me ration your energon again."

Soundwave's posture immediately straightened, the cables in his body tensing painfully against his thin support struts. "Didn't tell me anything boss. Couldn't break through," he responded quickly. "He's got strong firewalls. He _knew_." Soundwave shifted his weight from one pede to another. "Ye got yer credits. Dun know what ye whinging about."

Landbreaker's optics darkened and he slammed his hands on the metal desk in front of him, causing it to creak dangerously. Soundwave flinched.

"You're _stupid," _Landbreaker growled, his thick hands reaching forward quickly to grasp the collar ridge of Soundwave's chassis. He pulled Soundwave forward, across his desk, pushing his face and grinding his cheekguard into the smooth metal. "You are _nothing…" _Landbreaker hissed, curling his fingers underneath Soundwave's jaw to tilt his head up. "Do you even understand how expensive energon is now?"

The youngling struggled but he was no match against Landbreaker. The visor pressed to one side, straining the cheap clips on his helm and a sliver of a bright orange optic could be seen from underneath it.

"I make you credits," he managed to grind out into the desk's surface. "I get ye credits!"

Landbreaker's optics darkened and he stopped for a moment.

"Ye can't deny how much ye need me too!" Soundwave shouted anxiously. "I know, I know I failed!"

Landbreaker snarled maliciously and ground the youngling's helm harder into the table before he let go.

"Where there's one telepath there's always another," Landbreaker growled. "You make me credits because I own you. You don't have a choice you fool." He settled himself back into his chair. "Perhaps you'd like to clean out the lower prisoner's quarters. I haven't had them fed for a few days…"

Soundwave's legs drew closer to his abdomen from where he had been dragged upon on the desk and his arms trembled as he pushed himself to a sitting position. He hastily righted the visor, covering his optics once again and bowed his helm to avoid Landbreaker's direct gaze. The visor covered the sheer hatred emanating from his own optics but the line of his mouth was grim, corners turned down with displeasure.

"No, no…sure boss. Ye right." Then Soundwave looked up, faceplates rearranging themselves to a more amiable expression. "We good boss? I can check the next cycle's shipment for ye."

"Just get out," Landbreaker snapped.

"Boss—"

Landbreaker fixed Soundwave with a heavy gaze. "I have yer contract. I own _you _until you pay me back all the fuckin' credits it took me to get you out of trouble. Don't fuckin' test me right now because I'll whip your worthless aft until you can't get up!" he shouted.

Soundwave didn't need any more prompting. He hurriedly left the room and once he was out in the hallway, he rubbed the thinly plated chassis above his fuel tanks. Soundwave was running dangerously low, and he tried to avoid the sputtering of his fuel lines as they continued to recycle used energon – which was so thick, his systems were working overtime just to force it through his lines.

He trotted down the hallway. He ran by a guard, who snapped angrily at him, and he rushed out into the open docking station. Shockwave's shuttle was already gone, but the smell of the engines still remained. Soundwave stared at the sky, trying to pinpoint Shockwave's ship among the many dots.

"Hey you, you get back inside. Don't want you runnin' around okay?" another burly guard said from the other side of the docking bay.

Soundwave turned around, his shoulders slumped. He looked up suddenly, checking to make sure none of the security cameras were on him. When he was sure he was alone, Soundwave dug the sigil from his thigh armour and turned it over in his hand. He traced the aggressive shape of it with his servos and he carefully prying the side open. His finger hit a button and the device beeped, lighting up brilliantly.

"—and then I says to her—"

Soundwave's helm whipped around and he carefully observed a few workers travelling down the hallway. He hid the sigil back into his thigh plating and hurriedly continued down the hallway to start his shift in the warehouse.

Warehouse work was never fun. When Soundwave arrived, he was already late for his shift. The foreman on duty was a vile mech named Spindraft, who often whipped slaves for not performing adequately. When Soundwave arrived, Spindraft was already yelling at a small femme for dropping a crate – which obviously had contained various valuables. Soundwave carefully peeked into the broken crate, noticing that several delicate looking purple crystals had broken. He scooped a piece of one up and clutched it tightly in his hand as he watched Spindraft carry out the femme's punishment. The crack of a whip made him flinch, and Soundwave carefully moved along so he could begin sorting shipping containers as they were hauled off a ship.

"Here's today's manifest, slave," Spindraft roughly said, approaching Soundwave from behind to roughly shove a datapad in his side.

Soundwave grunted, not bothering to correct Spindraft that he wasn't a slave. Primus knew how many times he had tried and as far as Spindraft was concerned, Soundwave _was _a slave. So Soundwave managed to grab the datapad before it fell onto the floor, bringing it up to his face to read it over. Without a word, Soundwave began to sort the crates that delivery mechs offloaded into neat piles so the other workers could take them to their appropriate store rooms. The work was mindless, if only physically exhausting. By the time two cycles were over, Soundwave could barely function.

He thought about returning to his tiny hole of a room to recharge. Or at least try to before Landbreaker decided to summon him for his…services.

Shockwave's words came back to dance mockingly inside his head.

He dug out the sigil again and stared down at it, wondering what had happened earlier. Not knowing what to make of it, he pushed it back into the recesses of his plating and looked over his shoulder. The warehouse was mostly empty and Spindraft was nowhere to be seen. Soundwave left Landbreaker's premises then. The guards barely looked at him as he walked past the security gates – it wasn't as if Soundwave could actually properly _leave_. Landbreaker would find him regardless, no matter where in Kaon.

Soundwave had no altmode so he was forced to use public transport. The line didn't take him exactly where he wanted to go so he had to walk the rest of the way. His destination was an entertainment district that was on the other side of Kaon; a place where he was less likely to bump into any of Landbreaker's lackeys. Kaon was known for its oily sleaziness and this particular district seemed to emphasise that fact perfectly. It reeked of desperation and filth where pleasures and low-grade energon filled with grit could be bought cheaply.

A group of drunken dockworkers nearly crashed into him and Soundwave spun on his pedes, narrowly avoiding them. Just ahead of him, Soundwave could see the open square surrounded by bars that doubled up as whorehouses. Prostitutes of all types strutted around by the walkways, displaying themselves favourably at whoever looked remotely interested.

Soundwave's visor dimmed with resignation and prayed that the clients he'd hopefully solicit tonight didn't exploit him _too _badly. Paying off his debt to Landbreaker was not cheap and prostitution was a profession the telepath was unfortunately experienced in.

At least Soundwave could rely on his telepathy as an early warning system to leg it in case a punter turned out to be a serial killer.

The crystal he had stolen earlier broke easily in his palm. Soundwave brought his hand up to his mouth and licked his palm clean. He could feel the crystal granules fizz when they reacted with his oral oils, releasing a chemical that burnt itself down his fuel tank. The drug performed its magic wonderfully and it wasn't long before he felt a cloud of bliss descend upon him.

With that, Soundwave made his way over to the square.

The area was unusually raucous and it took Soundwave awhile to remember that one of the local pit fighter teams had won a regional tournament. Naturally all of the supporters would be hitting the clubs hard for some fun and celebration. It meant that more out-of-towners would be hanging around, which also meant the perfect bid for a nice sum of credits.

Soundwave mingled around and managed to steal a few candied energon treats when a street vendor wasn't paying close enough attention. He munched down the candy and finally caught a few stray thoughts.

_'That's him.'_

Soundwave turned and pushed his way through a group of mechs until he emerged on the other side. Two _huge _mechs were blatantly visible outside of a rowdy club. Soundwave approached the pair, greedily staring at the high grade cubes they each held. He smiled, realizing he had the tallest one's attention.

The shortest of the pair turned to see what his friend was looking at. They laughed and shared a few words in a strange language Soundwave had never heard before.

Off-world mechs were even better and notoriously known to carry a plethora of credits. Soundwave had them pinned as a pair of stake holders in the recent fight.

The bigger one laughed again before he growled at Soundwave with a deep throaty tone. "Whores and sluts are so easy to find in this city," he spoke. "Come here little slut… do you want some energon?" he called out to Soundwave with a heavy accent.

Soundwave utilised all of the skill he possessed at that moment and concentrated on displaying the best areas his body had to offer. He sashayed towards the pair, making sure that their optics were glued at the way his hips swayed invitingly and when he got in close enough to feel their thick energy field, he ran his glossa over his mouth. For the time being, he didn't dare to touch them but still continued to advertise himself as submissive and very interested in what they had to offer.

"What else ye got for me?" he asked, deliberately slowing his speech so that he wouldn't overheat his malfunctioning vocaliser.

"Credits," the smaller one replied. "We are just in the city for tonight… and looking for fun before we return to Iacon."

The large mech spoke in the strange language again before he switched back to the common dialect. "What is it you are offering us, little slut? I have… unusual tastes."

Soundwave's spark sank. Unusual tastes usually meant abuse. He tried to subtly probe into their minds, at least to see what they had planned but there was nothing. In that case, Soundwave swiftly weighed the pros and cons in his head – he could charge higher just to cater to their unusual tastes and they did look like they were willing to spend. On the other hand, he could hardly afford to be choosy. Not if he wanted to escape Landbreaker's debt.

Plus, that drug was _really _helpful.

"Gimme energon an' credits…" Soundwave dared to breach their personal space by placing his hand against the smaller of the two, lightly scratching at what seemed to be part of jet nosecone melding into the mech's waist. "…I can do whatever ye want from me."

The shortest of the pair smoothly wrapped his arm around Soundwave's waist and shoved an energon cube in his hands. Soundwave immediately gulped it down and felt his internals seize uncomfortably as they struggled to cope with the sudden intake of fuel. He didn't show it however, knowing that his tanks would soon settle.

"I'm Blitzwing," the mech who had given him the cube said before pointing to his larger partner, "and that's Octane. There's no reason for alarm, we're not out for violence tonight. It's just that... there are few on the market who know how to handle our... size, if you understand me," Blitzwing said, all traces of his accent gone.

"So if you are willing," Octane said, handing over a modest credit chip to Soundwave. "We will go somewhere more private."

Soundwave refrained himself from just snatching the credit chip from Octane's fingers. Even if the experience did turn out to be unfortunate, at least he would have been paid _something_. He pocketed the money into his leg plating and distracted his newest clients from the action by letting his hand trail over the long line of his thigh.

"Very willing," Soundwave rasped out, sounding pleased.

He half-turned away from the embrace and gave his aft a few pats, as if inviting them to get on with it. The two mechs commented to each other in that strange language again and one of them exploded into a loud guffaw.

"Don't worry, little slut, we weren't laughing at you," Octane assured.

Soundwave didn't honestly care if they were. All he cared was if they were going to keep to their promise. So he just tipped his helm back and stared at them from the corner of his visor, making sure that they could see the way his lips were tugging upwards. That was the cue that both Blitzwing and Octane needed. They advanced forward and Blitzwing snaked his thick arm around Soundwave's waist again to guide him.

"Ye got a room, marra?" Soundwave asked, looking up at Blitzwing and hoping that he'd say yes.

Blitzwing leered down at him. "Nope, but don't worry…I ain't up for banging you in some dirty alleyway."

They closely followed Octane as he literally created a clear path for them while he pushed through the crowd. Soundwave's sharp gaze caught one of the prostitutes who had yet to find a client reaching out to solicit Octane and he hissed viciously, warning the other to back off. That had prompted even more laughter.

Soundwave scowled when he saw where Octane had led them.

"Thought ye said no alleyway," he complained.

"Mm…don't worry, little slut…I just want to see how good you are with your mouth," Octane said with a smirk. "Just to see if you're worth buying for the entire rotational cycle."

He felt Blitzwing's large hand press against the small of his back, giving him a gentle nudge forward. Soundwave glanced over his shoulder to catch Blitzwing's roguish grin and bright red visor before he was ushered along the side of one of the structures and straight into the narrow space that led into a dead end.

It was the drug that had already dulled his instincts and Blitzwing's hot alpha energy field that caused him not to question his safety. Soundwave stared as Octane leaned back against the wall and pushed his hips out to show off his prominent codpiece.

"Ever had a Triplechanger before?" Octane asked low in his vocaliser, reaching down to suggestively grab his codpiece.

Soundwave smiled inanely and shook his helm. Even if the answer had been yes, he still would have denied it to them. It always paid to make the client feels special in that sense. He heard Blitzwing behind him say something to his partner in their peculiar language again and Soundwave turned to frown at him. A soft _snick _had him turn back to Octane. Soundwave's optics gravitated straight down to the massive spike rising up from Octane's housing.

"Like what you see?" Octane purred out, and he fondly caressed the bulging energon tubes that wound tightly around the base of his shaft, much like a knot.

Soundwave didn't have a chance to comment. Blitzwing had jammed an EMP-device right up against his helm and Soundwave heard the high-pitch whine it emitted before it blasted him into unconsciousness. Oddly enough, Soundwave did manage to catch Octane insulting Blitzwing for not letting him have his blowjob before his systems shut down.

* * *

The first thing Soundwave noticed when he regained consciousness was the lack of pain. The second thing he noticed as his optical feed slowly cleared was that all he could see was white, painfully clean white. And finally, he noticed the lack of warnings his body usually bombarded him with each time he onlined.

Soundwave honestly thought he was dead.

After a long moment, he realised that no, he wasn't dead and that he was staring at an unknown ceiling with incredibly bright lighting. He could hear humming and mechanical whining all around him and Soundwave knew that wherever he was, he was nowhere near Landbreaker's warehouse.

That surreal sensation of weightlessness surrounded him and his processor continued to remain sluggish. That wasn't right. Soundwave surmised that he _must _be dead. It was the only way he could explain the lack of _anything _that registered on his sensors. But he could still feel his spark, slowly pulsing away and somehow, he managed to send a command for a diagnostics check. The fact that he actually got a response meant that he was alive. However…what was scrolling in front of him was another thing entirely. Something was going on with his body. An inventory scrolled across his vision of all the new parts that had been replaced on his body… and that inventory kept endlessly rolling.

"Sir, _sir," _a little drone buzzed, pestering Shockwave who was observing Soundwave from across the room. "The subject has awakened. It would be advisable to sedate him to continue work," it chattered.

Shockwave waved a hand, his optic whirring as he zoomed in and out on various part of Soundwave's body. "There is no reason. His sensory net is disconnected. I won't waste more sedatives on him."

Shockwave stood, abandoning the wiring he'd been fiddling with on one of his newest lines of clones. He wiped his hands until they were as pristine as before and padded over to the side of the berth, the bright light casting a broad shadow over Soundwave's form.

With one hand, Shockwave trailed his fingers over Soundwave's lasercore, tweaking the sensor nodes lined along it. Nothing would be felt, but there was a significant point that Shockwave needed to make.

_Shockwave _was in control.

By the terror-filled look in those orange optics, the youngling knew it too.

After passing his fingers over the glass one more time, Shockwave's hand shot up and he gripped Soundwave's chin to squeeze.

"You have cost me quite a lot to repair. I can only hope it is worth it."

Shockwave pressed his fingers into the youngling's sides where he extended a short cable from his wrist. It smoothly slid into a port located on Soundwave's flank. He easily accessed several programs to give Soundwave control of his torso and head but kept the sensory deprivation.

"Are you scared?" Shockwave asked.

_Yea_, Soundwave yelled. Or at least he tried to. No sound came out of his vocaliser. The module lay open at his throat, its components starkly visible with no wires connecting it to the back of his jaw that controlled it. His telepathy had not been tampered with but Soundwave _knew _that Shockwave would undoubtedly possess the ability to suppress it completely.

_What ye doing to me? What's going on? Let me go! Where ye got me? What ye going to do to me?_

He thought this and a million other questions, projecting them weakly at the large, imposing mech standing over him. But really, it wasn't much of the physical presence that scared him, it was the intrusion that filtered through his circuits. As a result, his spark began to pulse faster and faster and his vents laboured to draw in air. Then the machines took over his ventilation system, forcing it to slow down to a moderate pace before he literally burnt himself out from the effort.

Even with the limited movement Shockwave granted him, Soundwave continued to remain effectively crippled as it was. His shoulders thumped down onto the berth's hard surface, the back of his helm banging down in another bid for self-preservation.

_Help, help, help, help, help_. It ran as a mantra inside his mind.

Shockwave jerked the jack back out from Soundwave's port as if burned. He took a step back with Soundwave's mental assault still reeling inside of his mind. He clutched his helm with one hand.

"Enough!" Shockwave shouted.

The mech then took a moment to compose himself.

"You are with me at my place of operations. You will remain here until you pass the goals I have set for you, or until you die."

Shockwave watched as the medical drones continued about their jobs, sparks flaring up occasionally from where one was welding on Soundwave's body.

"You will be treated well as long as you follow my rules. They are strict and numerous, but easy enough to understand. Currently your body is being prepared so that you are useful and can go about the tasks I have assigned you. Also…I have installed a new vocaliser for you."

Shockwave's hand fiddled with the wiring at Soundwave's throat, pushing in several connector cables.

"What are—"

Soundwave immediately stopped there after hearing the first couple of words pour out of his mouth. It wasn't him speaking, it wasn't his voice. It was toneless, horribly flat and sounded as if it was coming from an automated computer. Every nuance of his original accent, the characteristic lilt of his voice gone.

"Gimme my voice back, yeh sparkless drone!"

He couldn't even project the anger. It was simply not possible. The monotone was _wrong. _Yes, the vocaliser he had been sparked with was one big malfunction, given the circumstances, but it was _his _voice. All he wanted was for it to be fixed.

Everything Shockwave said didn't matter. Soundwave was aware that he had passed himself from one service to another; from Landbreaker to Shockwave. Surely whatever he would be imposed with wouldn't be as bad as Landbreaker's constant brutality. Soundwave could live with that.

But for Shockwave to change him to such an extent…it was too extreme. It was his identity.

"I wan' my old voice." Soundwave cut himself off, unable to hear that horrible monotone. _Please._

Shockwave made a noise of dismissal.

"You will not receive your voice back. It personally offends me," Shockwave said, as if he was reading from a datapad. He watched as the drones added a few more finishing pieces to Soundwave's left leg, putting small parts into place with. "You belong to me now, and I have several ways of going about your training. You will either comply and obey, or I will erase your personality components and replace them with something more…competent."

Soundwave flinched.

Another moment and all of the pieces had been put back in order on Soundwave's leg. Shockwave looked it all over again, and then began disconnecting Soundwave from the machines. It took a while, but Shockwave preferred if it was all done neatly.

"You will refer to me as Master, or Master Shockwave. Any continued insults to myself will result in punishment."

The jack from Shockwave's wrist extended again and the scientist pressed it back into Soundwave's port, instantly reactivating several programs, along with the mech's sensory grid to give Soundwave full control of himself. "You will not receive armoured plating for several weeks. My drones have better things to do than pound out dents."

Soundwave keened, but his new vocaliser was still not worn in to produce the sound needed to convey pain and surprise. Or it simply did not allow it. Now that his sensors were back online, the numbness had been unpleasantly smashed away by stinging, as if sharp points penetrated him on every angle of his sensitive protoform. The sensory ports where the armour clicked in _burned_, data connectors horribly empty. The drones reacted with amazing efficiency, installing temporary covers to block out the building pain and cut out the confusing information his protoform was receiving from the open air.

Soundwave wondered what he had gotten himself into. He instinctively pulled into himself, curling his naked limbs onto his equally naked body, gaze frantically darting around him. He spied what was left of his old plating piled up in a container that appeared ready to be discarded. And there, on top of the armour that used to make up his shoulders, lay what looked to be a vocaliser unit. The drones hadn't even attempted to repair it; they just scooped it out and tossed it away and replaced it with the monstrosity that was part of him now.

Skeletal fingers stretched out towards the pile. "Please." He was too scared to feel hate or anger. Too vulnerable and weary. "Vocaliser." Another pause. "Master Shockwave."

"Your request is denied. It is damaged and inefficient. To reinstall it would be pointless," Shockwave said, his fingers prodding at various parts of Soundwave's body. He removed the jack again, letting it slid back into his wrist where the little cover snapped close.

"Your current amount of suffering will be nothing compared to your training. You will be conditioned and trained to fight one-on-one, you will be instructed on how to use the latest weaponry I have to offer, your frame and mind will be conditioned to the highest degree, and your telepathy will be enhanced to give you power. Then you will join your place in the Decepticons."

After Shockwave had finished speaking, he tapped his fingers on the light cranium covering of Soundwave's helm.

"Mech Soundwave, you will stand to ensure your new parts are in proper working order. I suggest you try walking."

Soundwave swivelled his helm to stare into the yellow optic. He was still reeling with shock, unable to form a coherent response. But he figured that Shockwave wouldn't have wanted one anyway.

He didn't know how he achieved it but he swung his legs over the edge of the berth and carefully stood up. His plateless pedes felt too narrow on the floor, too unbalanced. Hydraulics hissed and pulled at his struts, new parts that fitted perfectly on him and yet, did not feel like him.

Soundwave's optics was still fixed upon that pile. He gingerly took one step forward, unused to the balancing software that calibrated new gyros, intently obsessed to get his hands onto the vocaliser. But Shockwave easily overtook him. Instead of grabbing him, Shockwave brushed past and went to a control module on the wall. Shockwave pressed a button and several long mechanical arms extended from the ceiling, grabbing a hold on the girth of the container, which contained Soundwave's old plating and vocalizer. The container was carried through an open hatch in the wall, clearly dumping the contents out into a garbage disposal right before Soundwave's optics. The hatch doors slid shut, the edges of the yellow and black caution paint touching together just as the arms retracted back up into the ceiling.

"It will be sorted and then melted down. Unfortunately, the colour of your optics could not be changed. Your optical relay is a mutated due to the poor materials used in your original protoform construction. There is no connector buffer and it's fused directly into your processing chips," he informed Soundwave. "Red would be more suitable, but the orange will have to do."

The young telepath was not acknowledging the other mech's words. He stared forlornly at the closed hatch, much like a sparkling that had had its favourite toy taken away.

Shockwave peered curiously at his new subject, his arms crossed over his chassis. "You'll find that I am devoid of most emotion and compassion. Soon you will be similar," Shockwave stated.

Soundwave's full mouth opened, then closed…repeating the motion several times over. "I…dun wanna be a…" Here he nearly choked. "A drone."

It was true. At first it was all about survival. Fantasies of living in the riches of Iacon, making enough credits to own property at the Towers would be just fantasies, for Soundwave wasn't stupid enough to ever believe that he'd live happily.

"You won't be," Shockwave replied, sounding mildly offended. "If I wanted a drone, I would create one. It would save me the hassle."

Shockwave's hands fanned over a control board and a holoimage of Iacon's royal estate, where the current Prime resided in, flashed into view, spiralling around slowly and enveloping them both.

"The time has come for a revolution, and your brethren are leading it," Shockwave finished, a little louder.

Soundwave wasn't stupid enough to believe the nonsense that Shockwave was spouting either. The shock was somewhat fading away now, indignation seeping in all the confusion he knew had been etched upon his face since the moment he onlined in this pit of a laboratory.

Soundwave started to laugh hysterically and the synthethiser he had for a vocaliser ruined it completely.

"Yeh insane, marra? I dun understand the slag yeh sayin'! Yeh wanna kill me and take my spark, go do it and stop with the games!"

Shockwave vented loudly. "Your telepathy is invaluable," he tried again, one arm jerking out in irritation. "It is a rare trait that I find most favorable in recruits. If you can learn to use it, you will become a very valuable asset. Do you understand?"

"I wan' my vocaliser back," Soundwave insisted, still unable to push the longing into his new voice.

Shockwave vented again, placing his hand on his hip, while he brandished the other down towards the floor. "You are a new mech now. You belong to me, and through me, the Decepticons."

Shockwave reached for Soundwave and his grip was like iron. He pulled the youngling forcibly out of the medbay – lab- whatever it was, and out through a pair of _extremely _large doublewide doors.

"Lemme go!" Soundwave yelled, skidding along on the floor as he attempted to stop himself.

Shockwave's strength was great, and sparks flew up from where his bare protoform pedes were digging into the floor. After his pain sensors flared up harshly, Soundwave stopped and started to jog forward to keep up with the large mech's brutal pace. They travelled down one hallway and then another, before the pair stopped in front of a lonely door. It opened and the inside light flickered on, revealing a modest room with a small _comfortable_ looking berth on the far end.

Shockwave shoved Soundwave towards the door. "This is your room. You will remain here when you are not training. A drone will deliver you a cube of energon every day. Once your brittle tank and body absorbs nutrients and becomes supple, I will allow you to have more energon, and even an energon dispenser in your room for refuelling at your leisure. Right now, too much energon would kill you."

A large hand pushed Soundwave all the way into the room. "It will be locked, and there is no chance for escape. I advise you to refrain from destroying any items. Any damage incurred will be repaid by an electro-whip. I have provided you datapads with basic schooling lessons. You are to complete the assigned learning lessons each day, to be presented to me for review."

The door shut between them, cutting the orange optics off from the yellow one. Despite hearing Soundwave beating on the door and screaming curses at him, Shockwave left. When he reached his laboratory, he called for a drone.

"Retrieve the damaged vocaliser and repair it," he ordered. "Perhaps as a future reward."

* * *

_**Kaon, towards the end of the Golden Age.**_

* * *

Times had been tough, but Landbreaker knew how to profit from them. The social unrest that had been brewing steadily from the side lines soon put a stop to that. Oh, he had taken advantage when society began to break down around him but when the officials whom he had a long standing relationship of corruption with started to drop dead like fly-bytes, that's when his profiteering plans went to the pit.

Fate smiled upon him when he received a call from Senator Ratbat. He had dealt with Ratbat a long time ago, making a few off-the-table deliveries for the senator and getting paid handsomely in return. To be…commissioned again was a blessing in itself. If he could get a business relationship with Ratbat going, it would be a miracle. He would be offering his services and if what he was hearing was correct, then Ratbat was dealing with the Decepticons. Not that Landbreaker was choosing sides – the Iacon-based regime was what allowed him to build his own shady businesses – but Megatron and his cronies were advancing all over Cybertron at a virus-fast rate.

It was an opportunity that Landbreaker would be stupid to refuse.

The console next to him beeped and Landbreaker barely was able to glance at it before the locks of his office doors were overridden. His hand slapped onto the blaster next to him and he gripped it just in time to see a tall, darkly plated mech stride into his office with silent steps.

Landbreaker snarled. "Who the fuck are you? How did you get here?"

The unknown mech stopped before the desk and he didn't even look affected by the blaster that was pointing straight at his chest. He was masked with a malevolent red visor and stood stiffly, much like a drone with its limbs locked into place.

"My presence," the mech stated with a monotone, "on behalf of Senator Ratbat."

Landbreaker's face relaxed but at the same time, he frowned at the strange individual who had casually hacked his codes and let himself into his office without so much of a warning. He didn't lower the gun.

"Still don't give you permission to—"

"I am Senator Ratbat's aide," the mech interrupted him smoothly.

"Don't care who you—"

Landbreaker trailed off when he saw the aide produce three credit chips in his clawed hand. Three shiny credit chips of very high denominations. Just the sight of them had Landbreaker's mood flip from aggravated to pleased.

"Landbreaker: will work exclusively for Senator Ratbat. You will be paid half in advance," the aide dispassionately announced.

This time, Landbreaker lowered his weapon and set it on the table. He smirked and purred out, "Then why didn't you say so…?"

The aide's visor brightened a little. "I am telling you now…marra."

Of course, Landbreaker had no warning. Pain lanced through his helm harshly, incapacitating him. He collapsed heavily onto the floor and his mouth sputtered static as he stared upwards at the pedes that stepped right at the line of his flickering optics.

"Sound—_kzzttt.._."

It was impossible. Soundwave had disappeared one cycle and Landbreaker presumed the little fucker dead.

He was heaved effortlessly up onto his chair and his helm lolled strutlessly to the side. Soundwave hunched forward a little to directly stare at him. His highly-polished mask retracted into the sides of his helm and Landbreaker hissed angrily when he saw that full mouth. He could recognise that mouth anywhere. Primus knew that he felt it many times when he had Soundwave service him.

Then Soundwave grinned and Landbreaker recalled how his former subordinate used to have flat, dull denta plates plagued by rust spots. They were now gleaming silvery-white, ending in thin and needle-sharp points. It was a horrible grin. Landbreaker's unresponsive body didn't even allow him to flinch. Even his vocaliser refused to work.

"I have returned to pay you back in full," Soundwave told him. The monotone must have been a synthesiser because his voice was back to normal, but without the Polyhexian-slum accent and the glitch that Landbreaker was used to.

Cruel fingers pried Landbreaker's jaw open and held it open as Soundwave jammed the credits into his mouth. They lodged painfully against his throat tubing, with their corners digging into the twitching opening that led down to his fuel tanks.

Landbreaker began to panic. He was unable to move, trapped in his own body by Soundwave's telepathy. Even his communications were jammed.

"You are weak-minded," Soundwave remarked.

He reached down to Landbreaker's chassis so that he could flip open his medical access panel to plug himself in. Landbreaker felt the cold trickle of the mech's foreign presence saturate itself into his systems. No amount of firewalls stopped Soundwave from accessing the mechanism that kept his chestplates locked over his lasercore.

"I did not lie. You shall indirectly work for Ratbat…under my command. Landbreaker's new function: my symbiote."

It was after he saw Soundwave's chestplates open wide enough for him to retrieve a segmented rectangular object. But upon seeing that object unfold into the protoform of quad-pedal creature, especially one that had an open cavity in its torso that displayed an empty lasercore did Landbreaker finally process the full severity of what Soundwave had said.

"New designation: Ravage."

* * *

Up next... we focus on Megatron! Don't forget to give us a review!


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